


everything i wanted

by thunderylee



Category: NEWS (Japan Band)
Genre: Canon Universe, Cyberpunk, Edging, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mentions of Current Events, NaNoWriMo, Romance, a black mirror episode that doesn't exist yet, canon compliant thru nov 1, pay me and you can have it booker, technological mindfuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:28:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 50,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27983091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderylee/pseuds/thunderylee
Summary: Shige buys a smart house that may or may not be influencing his feelings.
Relationships: Kato Shigeaki/Koyama Keiichiro
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	everything i wanted

**Author's Note:**

> i put off posting this until koyashige got better and they ARE so here it is! i probably have a lot more to say about this but it's 2am. come find me on twitter if you want the deets. @noranekorai
> 
> embedded fanart by [@ailili_draws](https://twitter.com/AiLili_Draws/status/1345442191838089218?ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw%7Ctwcamp%5Etweetembed%7Ctwterm%5E1345442191838089218%7Ctwgr%5E%7Ctwcon%5Es1_&ref_url=https%3A%2F%2Ftweetdeck.twitter.com%2F) ♥

There’s something about the early hours of the morning that taps into the creative part of Shige's brain.

This isn’t new information. For years, he's written well into the morning, watching the sun rise as an ending to his day instead of a beginning. When he was in school, he did his best work during all-nighters, fueled by coffee and CDs on repeat.

It’s not that much different now, except he doesn’t have to wake up early for class anymore. His work calls aren’t usually that early, unless he’s appearing on morning shows or filming a drama. Even those are few and far between.

He’s read about how the circadian rhythm fluctuates depending on the person. If that's true, then he’s definitely in the camp that starts their day closer to noon.

Two A.M. is the only time his mind actually feels clear. He’s as stressed out as anyone else is right now, but there’s an extra layer that’s completely self-imposed. If he's being honest, he's been restless since long before this year. He even tried adopting new hobbies and interests. Whatever it is inside him that has complaints hasn't yet been satisfied. So far, he’s only managed to pack his schedule, which stresses him out even more.

Still, he browses the web for oil painting supplies. Despite publishing novels for almost a decade, he wouldn’t consider himself an artist. At least not when it comes to creating visual pictures that aren't performative. What draws him to painting isn’t the talent so much as the process. Mixing colors and blending them onto a canvas seems meditative. Much more than sitting on a cushion trying to count his breaths, anyway.

He looks around his office and sighs. Not only does he not have any time to embark on yet another learning adventure, he doesn’t have the _space_. His apartment may be large for Tokyo—three bedrooms and one large main room—but it’s already filled to the limit. He could squeeze a small painting area into the guest bedroom, but his exercise equipment is in there. He can’t even call it a guest bedroom anymore since there isn’t even room to roll out a futon.

Not for the first time, Shige considers getting a bigger place. It’s not like he can’t afford it—it’s more about convenience. He doesn't want strangers in his home, especially when he’s not there. Hiring a cleaning service is out of the question. The bigger the home, the more he has to clean and upkeep, and he definitely doesn’t have time for that. Nor does he want to make any.

As he gives up on embarking on a new creative journey for the time being, he leans a little too far back in his gaming chair. It bumps the bookshelf behind him, shifting his equilibrium and jump-starting his anxiety. He calms down as soon as it realizes there isn’t any immediate danger, though his heart is still pounding.

He didn’t even want a bookshelf behind his desk. His manager had told him it makes him look more professional in Zoom meetings. So, he pushed his desk out to the middle of the room and stuck a bookshelf behind it. Due to the layout, his only other options were having the closet door or the window right behind him. If he put a bookshelf in front of the window, he couldn't see the sunrise on the few rare occasions he stayed up that late.

There definitely wasn’t room for the gaming chair, but Shige made it work. He thought about getting one for his living room too, but he definitely can’t fit anything else in there either. While he could mount a TV on the wall across from his desk, it feels too cramped. Also, there’s no way another person could comfortably join him. In the universe where he invited people over to game, that is.

It’s his own fault for having so many books and shelves. When he first moved out on his own, fifteen years ago now, he hated the white walls. It became his goal to cover as much of them as possible. He could paint the walls in this apartment as long as he painted them back before he moved out, but that’s a commitment he wasn’t ready to make. Even upgrading all his furniture a while back didn’t do much to decrease the sheer amount of _stuff_ he owns.

He’s tried so many times to downsize, but he can’t bring himself to part with any of it. Even the books he doesn’t read anymore, all the art and souvenirs he’d received over the years. Every single thing is part of what makes his home a _home_ and he would miss them if he boxed them up. What’s the point of putting something into storage anyway? They need to be sitting out so he can enjoy them every day.

For fun, he checks the real estate listings for the greater Tokyo area. As he scrolls through pictures of properties, he knows he would never buy them. He has always associated houses with families and it feels almost wrong to buy one just for himself.

Of course, he knows single people who own their own homes, and he’s sure that works fine for them. If he were to come home to an actual house, he’d want there to be someone to greet him. Not all the time, because any partner of his would have their own life and not sit around waiting for him. Knowing that someone would be there eventually is better than the alternative.

Two-thirty A.M. is when Shige realizes that his restlessness probably stirs from a deep, submerged desire to be loved. And that’s his cue to go to bed.

* 

Shige’s favorite thing to do in the entire world is work with NEWS. No matter how many members there are, NEWS has been his home since he was a teenager. It's also the foundation of everything he has become as an adult. He probably wouldn’t even haven gotten published if he wasn’t already in NEWS. Doing regular idol things like singing and dancing is fun, though it exhausts him. It’s the perfect balance of hard work and intrinsic rewards.

There are only three of them now, but that just means less arguments and compromises. That’s not to say they don’t get along—the exact opposite, actually. They’ve worked together for so long that they know how to debate their stances respectfully. They say what’s on their minds and listen to each other’s thoughts and feelings. Maintaining effective communication is the most important, especially when the stakes are high. Like they are now.

For the time being, they’re only performing songs that already exist. They're not creating anything new. While it’s comforting in the way that familiarity is, it's also very limiting. The innovative part of Shige wants to hurry up and embark on their new journey as three members. It may not be safe to have public gatherings right now, but there are endless things they can do online. They can still showcase their individual and group dynamics through various media.

Something else to attribute to his restlessness, he supposes. He’s happy they have any work at all, considering how much downtime they had after the last reformation. One new song and a handful of performances within a few months are much better than the alternative.

Seeing the smiling faces of the other members is enough to raise his spirits. While people tell him all the time that his smile can cure depression, it doesn’t have that same effect on himself. He’s always thought Massu’s smile brings out the sun on the dreariest of days. Additionally, he can feel Koyama’s unconditional love like a incorporeal hug each time they meet.

He’s still not used to that being _it_. Months later, he still expects their most recently departed member to stroll in. Ten minutes late, all smiles and sing-song voices like he didn’t inconvenience anyone. Tegoshi was like a hurricane everywhere he went. Even if he wasn’t physically there, there were signs that he had been. Going from that to _nothing_ has been a huge change.

It has its benefits and its drawbacks, though Shige tries not to think too hard about it. Regardless of how any of them feels about it, they are three members now. Their dynamic has changed to accommodate. As the new youngest, Shige’s free to tease the other members and play up the role of the brat. He enjoys this more than he thought he would. It’s a strange gap considering he’s been the old man of the group since they had six members, but somehow it works for them.

Massu outright refuses to be the center, even though that’s ultimately what he is. He adjusts their choreography so that they're all in the center at different times. It's aesthetically pleasing as well as fair. Shige doesn’t put much stock into popularity roles—anymore, anyway. He knows Koyama doesn’t either, but it’s very important to Massu that they’re all equals.

As for Koyama, Shige tries not to think too hard about him either. Koyama’s all heart and Shige’s all brain and very rarely do the two of them mesh on anything. Particularly when it comes to work. Koyama’s still the oldest and the leader who talks too much. Yet, Tegoshi’s departure has changed him in ways Shige might never understand. But as long as Koyama’s happy, Shige doesn’t have to worry about him (again).

If Koyama’s the heart and Shige’s the brain, that makes Massu the soul. Ordinarily, this thought would spark an idea for a PV concept or a concert theme. But Shige’s creativity is stunted as long as they aren’t releasing anything new. Just because he understands the reasons why doesn’t mean it’s not frustrating.

“You’re making the face,” Koyama points out between mouthfuls of sweet bread.

Shige takes a deep breath to try and disperse the tension from his facial muscles. He's pretty sure it doesn't work.

“What face?”

“The ‘we’re dead in the water’ face,” Massu clarifies. He’s also eating, but it’s a full-blown homemade bento complete with hearts on the rice balls. Either he has a new datefriend or he’d gone to see his mom recently.

“I know we’re not dead in the water,” Shige tells them, frowning. They only use that expression during actual periods of no group activity. Like the years before and after their last reformation. “I’ve been very anxious lately. At home too.”

“That’s the new normal, I think,” Massu says thoughtfully. “Even I worry now.”

“ _No_ ,” Koyama says in uncharacteristic sarcasm. “You? Worry?”

Massu swallows a plum whole. “I know, right?”

“Okay, okay,” Shige says while the other two cackle. “I know that pretty much everyone in the world is anxious right now, but I can only speak for myself. It feels like I’m standing still while the earth moves without me.”

Massu tilts his head in confusion. “But you already move with the earth. That’s how gravity works.”

“It’s an expression,” Shige tries, but even Koyama’s giving him a blank look. “Never mind.”

“Shige.” Koyama's using a soft voice that tells Shige something sentimental is going to follow. “Are you lonely?”

“What kind of question is that?!” Shige demands. “I’m a thirty-three year old man who isn’t allowed to be in a relationship. Of course I’m lonely. So are you!”

“I’ve never denied that I was,” Koyama says. “I’m older than you, you know!”

“I know that!”

“Why are you two yelling at each other?”

Both Koyama and Shige turn to face Massu. Their third member looks a little amused as he continues to shovel food into his face. His eyes are locked on them like he’s watching a particularly interesting TV show. Shige wishes he could say that it was unusual for he and Koyama to go at each other like this during breaks. Sadly, it’s become the norm. Shige tells himself he got used to getting into heated debates with Tegoshi over the years. Thus, his defenses rise at the first threat to his pride.

“Shige started it,” Koyama mumbles, and Shige bursts out laughing.

“How old are you again?”

“Older than you.”

“Oh my god,” Massu groans, running a wet nap along his hands before rubbing his eyes. “You two are worse than my sister and her spouse.”

Koyama gasps so tragically that it has to be fake. “Are you saying we act like we’re _married_?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying.”

Shige wrinkles his nose at the thought. Koyama’s a nice enough guy, but way too clingy. Also, they’ve been best friends for two decades now. Shifting to a romantic relationship feels like downsizing. Besides, Shige can’t imagine incorporating Koyama into his life more than he already is.

“No way,” Koyama dismisses in a way that Shige finds a little insulting despite his own disapproval. “Shige doesn’t even make time for me as it is. I’m worth more than competing with his million hobbies.”

“Are you kidding me?” Shige exclaims. “I spend more time with you than all my other friends combined, even before this year!”

“Because we work together!”

“That is not at all true!”

“When was the last time you invited me over, huh?”

“When was the last time _you_ invited _me_ over?!”

“You’re allergic to my cat!”

“Not so much anymore! Besides, you are obsessive about vacuuming up her fur, so I hardly notice her!”

“I’m not _obsessive_. I just don’t like seeing fur all over the place!”

“WILL YOU TWO SHUT THE FUCK UP ALREADY?!”

Shige’s retort catches in the back of his throat as he turns to look at Massu, who has already finished eating. Now, he's tapping on his phone as if he hadn’t roared at them like a parent scolding their bickering children. In his defense, this isn’t the first time Shige and Koyama have been at each other’s throats for seemingly no reason. This year has taken its toll on even the stress-free Koyama.

“Let’s talk about something else. Anything else. This article says that there has been a boom in smart houses lately.”

Massu has dialed his voice back down to its usual tone, no visible remnants of his sudden outburst. When Shige yells like that, it takes a few minutes for his heart rate to calm down. He’s jealous of someone who can shift gears so easily like that.

“I do enjoy my smart home,” Shige replies, forcing himself to take part in the conversation. “It’s only the basics, though. The newer models have an actual mainframe that controls every aspect of the home, right?”

Massu’s eyes move from side to side as he scans the article. “Yeah, but according to this developer there have been further advances in _neurotechnology_.” He pronounces the word slowly. “And the latest AI adapts to learned behavior and knows what you want without telling it.”

“That sounds a little creepy,” Koyama inputs. “What if you want something in your heart but your brain knows it’s a bad idea?”

“It’s probably not that deep,” Shige says, taking care to keep his voice even so that he doesn't start another argument. “Like how my lights turn on when I walk into the room.”

“I don’t know,” Massu contests. “It looks pretty invasive. There are health sensors like maintaining the quality of the air. They even scan waste for disease.”

“Like in the toilet?” Koyama asks, wrinkling his nose a little.

“Sounds like it. There’s also a feature that catalogs your food items and generates recipes based on what you already own. The trash receptacle keeps track of what you throw away and adds it to a reorder list too.”

“That actually sounds useful,” Shige comments. “I know there are apps to keep track of those things, but maintaining them is such a hassle. Having it done automatically would be nice.”

“Yeah, but...” Massu pauses to shake his head at his phone. “I just don’t trust all this automation, you know? Cataloging food is one thing but controlling the air is quite another. Like, what if it malfunctions and disperses carbon monoxide instead? Then you _die_.”

“Wow, morbid much?” Shige teases. Massu shrugs. “They wouldn’t let people live in these houses if they were dangerous, right?”

“You sure have a lot of faith in this omnipresent ‘they’.”

“I know there are standards they need to meet to be permitted in Japan.”

“That doesn’t mean that mistakes can’t happen. Or hackers.”

Shige sighs. Arguing with Massu doesn’t give him the same sense of satisfaction that arguing with Koyama does. It’s honestly not worth his effort. Especially considering it’s a topic that Massu doesn’t have much passion about.

“I bet they developed that air quality thing because of the virus,” Koyama points out.

“That’s obvious,” Massu replies. “It doesn’t come out and say so, but they keep alluding to it. Like a future where people are spending more time indoors and safe from ‘harmful bacteria’.”

He does finger quotes with one hand and Koyama frowns. “Virus and bacteria aren’t the same thing.”

“It’s supposed to be misleading, I think,” Shige says gently. “This way, they’re not claiming any liability. But someone who’s worried about getting sick will take any air filtration over none.”

“And trust it not to kill them in their sleep,” Massu mutters.

Shige rolls his eyes. “It’s not like I’m going to buy one! What I have now is already expensive. I can only imagine that all those extra features cost even more.”

“More than a mountain?” Massu asks knowingly.

Koyama snorts.

“Maybe,” Shige answers seriously. “There’s also a monthly charge for the smart features, like a subscription. You have to pay for the service as well as the actual property. All that adds up.”

“I bet it raises your electric bill too,” Massu says before swiping away the article. “Using so much power isn’t good for the environment.”

“It’s not that bad,” Shige tells him. “Like with my lights, I’m actually saving power by only turning them on when I’m in the room. There’s also an automatic sleep function that completely cuts off the circuit. It uses less electricity than a regular appliance that stays plugged in all the time.”

“Whatever,” Massu says indifferently. “If you decide to buy one, don’t invite me over.”

“I’m not going to—”

“Don’t worry, Massu. He doesn’t invite _anyone_ over.”

Shige sighs loudly at Koyama’s gratuitous pout. “Do you want to come over, Koyama?”

“Not when you ask like that!”

“You can invite me over too, you know!”

“Fine! Do you want to come over?”

“I’m kinda busy lately...”

Koyama throws his hands in the air. “I give up.”

Neither of them notice that Massu has packed up his lunch box and returned to work.

*

It’s been months and Shige’s still not used to FaceTime luncheons. In retrospect, it’s not much different than meeting at a cafe or any other place. It’s actually more convenient to stay home and throw together his own meal. He doesn’t even have to wear real pants.

One of the big differences is the lack of other people around. In the beginning, Shige liked not having any distractions. In physical restaurants, he would be interrupted by other people or background noises. But as time went on, he learned the double-edged sword in having 100% of his attention on his dining partner.

He didn't notice at the time, but there was always something going on in his surroundings. Before, whenever there was a lull in conversation, he could look around and comment on what he saw. It’s one of those things that becomes natural after years of meetings and social gatherings. At least until the environment changes.

There aren’t many people outside of work with whom Shige keeps in touch, as unfortunate as that is. Unlike Koyama, who has this uncanny ability to talk to anyone about anything. Shige has a hard time staying in regular contact with anyone who doesn't share his interests. Considering how many interests he actually _has_ , this shouldn’t be an issue at all. Still, his social calendar has been empty since long before he was discouraged from going out.

Yuuki is an exception. An old classmate from Aoyama, Nishikawa Yuuki is Shige’s alternate-universe counterpart. Though they didn’t know each other back then, Yuuki had auditioned for JE around the same time that Shige had. Only Yuuki didn’t get in. He was cute enough, and he sang and danced about as well as Shige did at twelve years old, but somehow he was passed over.

To Yuuki, that was a good thing. Because he wasn’t chosen to become an idol, he was able to continue his career path and get married at a young age. Now, he’s a junior partner at a law firm and father to two children, one of whom is almost a teenager. He looks to Shige the same way Shige looks to him—a “what if” that gives him gratitude for everything he has. Or regret, depending on what one or both of them are struggling with at the moment.

The only interest they share is movies. Ironically, they didn’t go to any theaters together even when it was safe. It’s always been lunches. Once every few months, when one of them needs that reminder of what their life would be like if _one thing_ had changed. Two separate decisions completely out of their control could have switched their lifestyles. Or both of them could have ended up as idols or lawyers.

Shige knows it goes deeper than that. He in particular has had the freedom to change his course at any time over the past twenty years. There were many instances when his much younger self considered doing exactly that. Especially after Yuuki got married and passed the bar. Though Shige’s envy was short-lived until the next performance reminded him how good he had it.

Talking to Yuuki over FaceTime is much different than meeting him in a cafe. Not only is Yuuki working from home now, his entire family is there too. His wife, Naomi, runs her own real-estate agency, and their shared office is their dining table. Though Shige can’t see her, he can hear her in the background giving someone a virtual tour of a property in Saitama.

Yuuki’s children are home too, attending remote classes in separate rooms. Usually, Yuuki and Naomi try to take their lunch breaks at the same time the kids do so they can eat together as a family. But today Yuuki had gone a little later to have some semblance of privacy with Shige.

“It has to be hard for everyone to be home all the time like this,” Shige sympathizes.

Yuuki grins back at him. On the outside, Yuuki looks like every other salaryperson in Tokyo. But when he smiles, Shige gets a hint of what Yuuki the idol would have been like. He naturally sparkles in a way it takes specific lighting and makeup to recreate on other people.

“We’ve gotten used to it. It helps to have a routine and get out of the house at least once a day. We take nightly walks, weather permitting.”

“I run at night,” Shige shares, and Yuuki nods. “I hate it.”

They both laugh.

“Have to keep that body tight somehow!” Yuuki exclaims gleefully. He’s boisterous like he’d had a liquid lunch instead of the sandwich and salad Naomi had left for him. “Can’t let go in your old age like I can.”

He pats the beginning of a gut that Shige is confident he’s sticking out on purpose. It may be the only part of his body that has any fat. Yuuki is built a lot like Koyama, except without as many trained muscles and not nearly as tall. Another way he and Shige are different, because Shige would be much rounder if he didn’t have an image to maintain.

“I try to work out inside, but I don’t have the motivation,” Shige explains, and Yuuki makes a sympathetic noise. “It doesn’t help that I don’t have any _space_. I can’t even do lunges in my exercise room without bumping into something.”

“Sounds like you need a bigger place!” Naomi pipes up in the background. “Might I interest you in a 4LDK in a charming neighborhood of Nerima?”

“Hush, Nao-chan." Yuuki directs an affectionate look off-camera before turning back to Shige. “Poor thing has been trying to sell this house for months now.”

Shige laughs. “Did someone die there or something?”

“Nothing that exciting. Apparently, it’s _too_ advanced for Tokyo’s elite.”

“What do you mean by advanced?”

Mild interest seeps into Shige despite his reservations. After his discussion at work the other day, he’s been researching smart house technology. Or, as it's called now, _neuro_ technology. Poking around scientific websites, he looked into all the ways it could improve his life. While he still doesn’t want to move again, learning about it is on the same level as researching oil painting. Not as something he will actively do, just absorb knowledge.

“It’s a smart house, but like, _really_ smart. You talk to it like a robot and it programs itself based on its observations.”

“Learned behavior.”

“Yeah, exactly.” Yuuki narrows his eyebrows in confusion. “Are you interested? Naomi would be thrilled to show it to you.”

“No commitment tour!” Naomi calls out.

“You know what? Sure.” Shige shrugs. “I’m intrigued by how these things actually work. Sign me up.”

“Excellent! Yuuki-chan will text you the address!”

“The address?” Shige repeats. “We’re not touring it virtually?”

Naomi appears in front of the camera, shoving over her spouse to address Shige. She’s as spunky as Shige remembers, though her face has definitely graced with age. It suits her, like her plumpness. In Shige’s opinion, she’s the prime image of a working mother in her thirties.

“Hi, Shige! Don’t worry, you’ll be the only one on the property. I can control everything remotely, and I have it sanitized top to bottom between viewings. You need to be there in person to experience the smart technology for yourself.”

“Well, if no one else is there...” Shige trails off. “I’ll need to check with my agency, just in case.”

“Of course! You do that and get back to me. I can show it to you as soon as tomorrow.”

“If you’re busy, I don’t want to waste your time when I’m not even in the market—”

“No waste at all! Maybe you can use it as a setting in your next book.”

She gives him a knowing look and Shige laughs out loud, sufficiently called out. “Okay, I’ll let you know.”

“Great,” Yuuki says pointedly, pretending to push Naomi out of the way. “Now, we can get back to _our_ meeting.”

Naomi rolls her eyes and goes off camera. “ _Men_.”

It’s nearing the end of Yuuki’s lunch break anyway, at least he has a real meeting coming up soon. They talk for a little while longer, bantering about Shige’s drama set and Yuuki’s children until Yuuki has to go. After setting up a tentative luncheon for after the holidays, they end the call. Then Shige returns to the suffocating silence of his home that feels even smaller now.

“Alexa, play my upbeat playlist,” he says out loud. Immediately, an old GReeeeN song blares from his portable speaker.

All he can think is that it would sound much better flowing through speakers embedded in the wall.

* 

Shige hasn’t driven in so long that it feels foreign as he weaves through the unfamiliar streets of Nerima. It’s less than a half hour outside of metropolitan Tokyo, but the neighborhoods are more suburban. Shige feels like he’s visiting Koyama’s family in Kanagawa or any of his own hometowns.

The house looks like any other house from the outside, an off-white color with dark windows and doors. When he gets closer, he sees that the exterior is smooth instead of lined like other buildings he’s seen. He doesn’t know much about construction, but it seems to be built with something other than wood or brick.

He’d gotten permission to go on this excursion easily enough. The agency isn’t that strict about enforcing the self-restraint order anymore. Considering he's already in the presence of people for work, touring a house alone is hardly a scandal. Still, he can’t be too careful.

It’s a two-story building with a two-car parking area, nestled far enough back from the street to be discreet. A little patio leads up to the front door from the driveway. Along the side of the house is a narrow side path separated from the neighbor’s by a tall fence. There’s not much of a yard, only the patch of grass between the house and the street, but that's fine. Shige’s not that concerned about having a lawn. Less to mow.

Naomi had told him to walk up to the door and look into the peephole, so that’s what he does. Instantly everything unlocks, the the door opening on its own to let him inside.

The minute the door has closed behind him, his phone rings. It’s Naomi, her bright face greeting him when he swipes to accept the video call.

“Hi, Shige! What do you think of the neighborhood?”

“It reminds me of Kanagawa,” he answers. “Where Koyama grew up.”

“Ah, that kind of homey feel, right?”

“I suppose.”

“Well, kick off your shoes and let me take you on the tour. First, I need your permission to access biometrics and neural pathways.”

“Neural pathways?”

“Think of it like allowing an app to access your location data. The house can’t adapt to your preferences otherwise. You have the option not to use it, but then you have to program everything manually. Like you do with your smart devices now.”

Massu’s comment about this kind of technology being invasive comes to mind, but Shige pushes it away. He figures it can’t hurt to give it a test drive.

“Okay. I allow permissions.”

“Excellent. There’s a scanner to the right of the entryway. Stand in front of it and it will take all your vitals.”

“I feel like I’m at the doctor’s office,” Shige comments as he shuffles his socked feet onto the scale-like platform.

“Your doctor _wishes_ they had this kind of technology.”

Shige laughs, but he’s inclined to agree when the wall in front of him glows with all kinds of numbers a half a second later. His height, weight, pulse, respiration rate, and “comprehensive wellness” flash back at him. On a scale of red to blue, he’s a green.

“Congratulations, you’re normal!” Naomi declares with a flourish. ”This is only the basic setting, but you can choose to make it more extensive if you want. The house is designed to check anyone who walks inside it for ailments. There are various settings for whatever you want to screen for. Rashes, pain, even emotional distress. Your guests will need to offer their permission to be scanned too, of course.”

“Can it detect virus particles?” Shige asks outright.

Naomi gives him a knowing look through the small screen. “ _Legally_ , I can’t say that it catches _all_ airborne diseases. The ventilation system will determine your preferred method of air circulation though. Then, it filters out dust and other forms of dirt in accordance. In fact, you should be able to breathe better already.”

Shige takes a deep breath and feels a little lightheaded. It seems his body is not used to fresh air.

“Does it filter out dander too? Like for cats?”

“Yes! Do you have a cat?”

“No, I’m allergic.”

“Oh, I see. While it filters the air, it won't protect you from physical fur strands. That is, if you’re concerned about guests who have cats at home.”

Shige blinks. He hadn’t been thinking about that at all. Koyama’s pretty good about lint-rolling cat fur off of this clothes before he leaves his home. Like Shige said the other day, Milk doesn’t bother him that much anymore. He’ll get a little stuffed up, but as long as he doesn’t pet her and rub his eyes, it’s no worse than hay fever.

“Anyway, now that the house is tuned into your brain, take a look around and see what happens!”

“You don’t know what’s going to happen?!”

“Of course I do. I know what the options are, anyway. But you’re the one who’s going to decide which of those options is chosen. The house will read your brain and determine what to do depending on the needs it records.”

“This sounds a little scary.”

“Don’t worry! I can stop it at any time. And so can you, by disengaging the neural link. In fact, let’s get the house used to your voice. I used some TV recordings to add you to her control board, but your accent is a stronger in casual settings. Go ahead, say hi! Her name is Nerima since she is my Nerima house. Obviously, you would change her name if you decided to buy her.”

“Nerima,” Shige repeats.

Right away, a disembodied voice speaks from seemingly all around him.

“Good afternoon, Kato-san. How may I assist you today?”

“Wow...” Shige spins around like he’s going to see something materialize out of the wall. “Just saying hi, I guess.”

“Hello! Please let me know if there’s anything I misread. It’s how I improve.”

“Will do. Um, thank you.”

“You’re very welcome, Kato-san.”

Naomi’s snickering at what must look like a bewildered expression on Shige’s face. “You get used to it,” she assures him.

Shige nods and walks around, poking his head in the front rooms and observing what happens. Like at his place, the lights turn on when he opens the door. But they also adjust to account for the light filtering in from outside, as well as his own sensitivity.

A typical laundry room leads to the bathroom, which has a shower stall and the biggest tub Shige has ever seen. Two people could fit comfortably submerged up to their necks, even someone as tall as Koyama. Only three of the walls are lined with shelves or temporarily-placed artwork. The last one is blank.

“Is there a reason nothing is on this wall?” he asks.

“Give Nerima your Netflix account information,” Naomi answers. “In your head—I don’t want to know your password!”

“Um, okay.” Shige imagines the log-in for Netflix for Netflix, then the top half of the wall turns into a TV screen. “Oh, wow!”

Naomi looks smug when he turns to gape at her. “If this were my house, I would never leave this room, but sadly I only sell them.”

“I see the appeal,” Shige says. He gasps again when the Netflix menu moves on its own based on where he thinks about scrolling. “Am I doing that?”

“You are. The biggest benefit of having a neural connection is that all you have to do is think something for it to be done. It completely eliminates the need for a remote control or any physical switches.”

Koyama’s concern lingers in the back of his mind for a few seconds before Shige speaks it out loud. “What if I think about something I don’t really want?”

“It has to be an active thought, not a subliminal one. There are fail-safes in place to keep you from doing anything dangerous. For example, you can’t tell the house to set itself on fire or suck out all the air. In fact, as long as the neural link is active, it will continue to check your vitals. If they drop below conscious levels, it alerts the appropriate authorities.”

“That’s actually kind of comforting.”

“Right? It would be very hard for you to die in this house. At least, if there’s a way to prevent it.”

“Is there a chance that it could be hacked?”

“No way. If anyone tries to make changes other than those authorized to do so, it will shut down and notify you. If it’s a hack, the police get involved right away. The only inconvenience is the smart features disabling until everything gets sorted out.”

“So I can’t watch Netflix in the bathtub,” Shige jokes.

“There’s an app you can use on your phone to navigate the wall screens and the Wi-Fi router. We don’t let criminals take away our fun!”

Shige laughs as he tears himself away from the bathroom. The kitchen is also fascinating to explore. While narrow, there is ample counter space along with the double sink and full-size range. He hadn’t thought the kitchen in his apartment was small until right now. Absently, he runs his fingers over the smooth marble before catching himself.

“Ah, sorry,” he mutters, snatching his hand back. “I’ll sanitize after myself.”

“No need. The counters are self-cleaning. The marble-like surface absorbs and evaporates anything liquid or smaller than a crumb. You can even tell it to wipe away a spill by thinking it.”

“Wow.”

“Yuuki-chan says you like to cook, right? There are many features you can use to reduce your time and effort, should you choose to add them. The range is completely electric and controlled by the house. You can set timers and adjust the heat levels from anywhere on the property. Though it won’t let you burn anything or boil over. If you like your meat charred, you’ll need to override the default setting manually each time.”

Shige can’t think of anything to say other than “wow.” Naomi doesn’t seem to expect him to respond, going on about the refrigerator and pantry sensors. It's like in the article Massu had found. One of the lower cabinets also opens up to a trash compactor, which separates recyclables too.

The rest of the main room is one open space, a scatter of furniture placed to separate the dining and living areas. A breakfast bar connects to the kitchen, seating three, which is all Shige would need. His dining table has been covered with papers and various other items for years.

Again, the wall with the screen is obvious. Shige plays around with it, discovering three game consoles and a Mac interface. When words start appearing on a blank document from the force of his _mind_ , he falls in love.

A tatami room is off to the side, leading to a storage area that’s big enough to be a room of its own. Despite owning so many _things_ , Shige doesn’t have much in storage. Only holiday decorations and seasonal items like clothes. Considering the many other storage areas throughout the first floor, he wouldn’t miss this one. It could be his painting room.

Naomi guides him upstairs, where there are three large bedrooms and a half bath. Each bedroom has giant closet and windows on two walls. Two of them walk out to a balcony wide enough for a double clothing line and some patio furniture.

One of the rooms is slightly bigger than the other two, but he hardly notices. The wall screens are meticulously located so that they don’t catch any glares from the windows. Naomi explains the security for the balcony doors and how there’s no way he can lock himself outside. As long as he has the neural connection, the house will always know it’s him.

“All the furniture in this house uses smart technology too,” she tells him. “Go ahead, sit on the bed. Make yourself comfortable.”

Shige stretches out on the bed in the larger room and almost jumps out of his skin when it starts moving on its own. It seems to be adjusting to his weight and posture. Naomi laughs at the way he yelps, and he cuts his eyes over to her face on his phone screen. He's too comfortable to be _that_ bothered.

“Do you have this much fun with everyone you show this house to?”

“No. I’m having fun because you’re my spouse’s friend. I do hope you consider buying it though, and not only because I’ll get a very nice commission.”

“I have to admit, I’m tempted.”

Shige closes his eyes as he sinks into the mattress that molds perfectly to his body. He’s on top of the covers, but he can feel the heat that warms him right up. He hadn’t even known he’d been cold.

“Let’s talk numbers,” he says. “And don’t lowball me. I know there are subscription fees, insurance premiums, and all kinds of costs as well as the actual house. I’ll be mad if I find out you withheld anything from me, so it’s better to be honest up front.”

“Kato Shigeaki, I resent the implication that I am a dishonest real estate agent.” Naomi punctuates her serious tone with a silly face, and Shige laughs. “I’ll run all the numbers and email them to you by tonight in an itemized list. How does that sound?”

“I suppose that is acceptable. Is the tour over, then?”

“The physical part is. If you’re interested in learning more about the smart technology and neural link, I can show you a few more things.”

“I’d love to see them.”

It takes a lot for Shige to get out of the bed, and he glances longingly at it as he walks out into the hallway. The door to the adjoining room is right next to this one. Immediately, Shige imagines a fluffy tea-colored cat on what he can see of the bedspread.

He opens the door and a vision of Koyama appears next to the cat, smiling at him and waving. Of course, Koyama would love this room. The windows face east for optimal sunlight, and it has balcony access too. He snores loud enough to vibrate the backseat of the NEWS na Futari van, but all these walls are soundproof. The doors are also fitted to not allow any sound through.

Shige doesn’t often see his imagination materialize in front of his eyes like this. It continues all the way down the hall and back to the first floor. The boring white walls are painted in more earthy tones, covered with art and pictures of family—both his and Koyama’s. The shelves become stocked with their belongings. Even the main room shows him how his current furniture would be arranged with his gaming chair. Though he’d miss out on the features of the smart sectional sofa that way.

By the end of the tour, he’s pretty sure he’s in love with more than just the house.

*

“Now, don’t get your hopes up,” Koyama says, “but I cooked.”

Shige lets out a fake gasp and plasters a look of absolute surprise on his face. “No _way_.”

“It’s not that shocking! I’ll have you know that I learned how to cook several different recipes earlier this year when my mom couldn’t come by.”

“Boiling pasta isn’t a recipe, Keiichiro.”

“It’s more than that!”

Shige laughs as Koyama huffs and disappears into his kitchen. It’s cute when he tries to act haughty and indignant. Shige can count on one hand how many times he’s seen Koyama actually mad in the entire time they’ve known each other. Even then it was more of a low annoyance. Shige gets more frustrated on a daily basis than Koyama shows in a whole year.

They’d finally managed to carve out some time for a visit after their silly argument earlier in the month. Shige may not be as overloaded as usual while filming, but his free time hasn’t coincided with Koyama’s until today. Even then, it was still pretty late by the time Shige showed up with a six-pack of beer. At least it was late by Koyama standards.

It’s strange for Shige to be in a regular (not smart) apartment after spending so long in his. Flipping a light switch seems like an obsolete gesture, as does opening curtains. After touring the smart house, even speaking the commands out loud feels old-fashioned. He's become aware of how much time and effort he spends doing things that can be done with a simple thought. A flick of the mind. He wouldn’t even have to use his voice.

And all it would do is eat up his entire savings. Naomi had emailed him the paperwork that night as requested, but Shige had waited a few days to review it. He doesn’t like to rush into big decisions, and this might be the biggest decision of his life. None of his overseas vacations or any of his cars could compare to all the zeros on this bottom line. Even with first-time buyer discounts and the deductions Naomi could negotiate for him.

He’d even hired a financial adviser to look over the fine print. His understanding of property law is fuzzy at best and Yuuki is biased. It feels weird to pay a complete stranger to help him make this decision, but it's also a relief. Someone who has no vested interest in the sale also has the moral integrity to make the best choice for him.

His job is stable, so he doesn’t have to worry about that. He supposes it’s always possible for the agency to go under, or for NEWS to get disbanded, but it’s not likely. Even if that were to happen, he has his writing to fall back on, and he could pick up more TV shows. As arrogant as it is to assume continued success in this industry, it’s not at the top of Shige’s concerns right now.

He’d been saving since he first started working. At twelve years old, he already had plans to buy a car and get his own place as soon as he was legally allowed to do both. He paid all the fees for high school and university too, as well as his own clothes and accessories. He can’t remember a single time since he started working that his parents bought him anything that wasn’t a gift.

One of his goals in life from a young age is to never be a burden on anyone. His parents were well off when he was growing up, but the lifestyle of an idol is expensive. Shige had to get haircuts and face waxes every other week (he still does). He got his teeth fixed and his eyesight corrected. He took public transportation on a regular basis, sometimes several times in the same day. That all adds up.

But he’s thirty-three now. Despite his extravagant lifestyle, he’s managed to put a lot of money away. It’s just been sitting in the bank collecting interest. His financial adviser had point-blank asked him what he was saving for, and Shige couldn’t answer. An emergency? A rainy day? This year has been an emergency if there ever was one. And it’s certainly rained a lot, literally and figuratively.

“You have that constipated look on your face like when you’re trying to make a decision,” Koyama observes. He hands Shige a bowl of steaming food that actually smells good. “Unless you’re actually constipated.”

Shige scoffs. “I’m not constipated. I do have a decision to make though.”

“About what? When did you stop talking to me about these things?”

Koyama actually looks sad, and Shige stares at him. He can’t recall a single time in his life when he’d consulted Koyama before making a decision. It’s usually the other way around. Though in all fairness, he usually _told_ Koyama about it.

There’s nothing to do now but come out and say it. Shige’s amazed at how ashamed he feels admitting it. It's not even that embarrassing in the grand scheme of things.

“I’m thinking about buying a smart house, like in the article Massu read the other day. The spouse of an old university friend of mine is a real estate agent. She showed me a property that I really, really liked.”

To his credit, Koyama only looks a little surprised. Shige supposes it’s not that out of character for him to be interested in smart technology. As far as Koyama is concerned, anything he doesn’t do himself is “futuristic.” So, there probably isn’t much of a difference to him.

“Tell me all about it!” Koyama exclaims. He takes a seat on the next couch cushion and pointedly pokes Shige’s bowl with his chopsticks. “While eating.”

Shige does. He blurts out everything he knows about the house in-between bites of surprisingly delicious udon. He highlights the features he experienced as well as the ones in Naomi’s paperwork. Koyama’s smile grows at the same rate as Shige’s excitement, though he’s not sure which one is influencing the other.

At any rate, the more he tells Koyama, the more he wants to buy it. It’s easy to see Koyama smiling like this in the fancy kitchen, the giant bathtub, the tatami room. The bedroom with all the sunlight. Koyama keeps smiling and listening as Shige explains how the neural link works.

Shige sees him on the balcony hanging clothes to dry, which is pretty much the only laundry chore he’s trusted to do. Or sitting outside enjoying the weather. Neither of them smoke anymore, but they could just as easily have a beer under the starry suburban sky.

Milk’s bell jingles down the hallway while Shige’s waxing poetic about the smart mattress. She joins Shige’s imagination too. Not only is she curled up on Koyama’s bed, she’s on the windowsills and the ledge of the balcony. Digging in the small dirt patches along the side of the house—or doing whatever cats do outside. Shige doesn’t actually know if they dig.

“It sounds amazing, Shige. The brain connection still sounds scary to me, but if I’m only visiting I don’t have to do it, right?”

Shige blinks at that, the fantasy world he’s imagined for himself shattering before his eyes. He shakes himself out of it, instantly confused at why he would even think about Koyama taking up space in his home. They’ve never talked about living together, not even when they were younger. Koyama is satisfied with his own apartment. He has a _cat_.

“Are you okay? I didn’t think the udon was that spicy.”

“It’s fine, I’m fine.” The words rush out of Shige’s mouth because he doesn’t know what else to say. “It’s just...I would want to set you up as a backup in case something happens.”

“Oh.” Koyama’s face relaxes into another smile. “I could do that. But are you sure you want to trust me with that responsibility? I might break your house like I broke your laptop...s.”

Shige laughs at the memory, which definitely wasn’t funny at the time. Either time. “All you would need to do is contact someone to restore my access if I get locked out for some reason. It’s very likely that you will never need to do anything. But just in case, they suggest a backup.”

“Does being a backup mean I have to have a neural link?”

“No. It's a unique code they would assign to your biometrics and phone. You don’t even have to be near the house.”

“That’s fine then. Thank you for thinking of me.”

“To be honest, I can’t think of anyone else.”

Koyama makes a strange face. Shige realizes too late that what he said could be taken two very different ways. Instead of backtracking, he engages Koyama in discussion about the udon recipe. He feigns more shock at Koyama actually chopping up fresh vegetables instead of buying a mix. Like that, they return to the back-and-forth banter that's as natural as breathing.

The smart house takes a back burner to less stressful topics. Like anime and this new K-pop girl group with virtual members for whom Koyama’s fallen hard. Even after their bowls are empty, they polish off the six-pack. Their conversations get sillier the more intoxicated they get.

“What if you could live in space?”

Shige laughs at the dreamy look on Koyama’s face. “We can’t live in space yet.”

“I know that, Shige. But what if you could? Would you?”

“It would depend on too many factors to decide right now! Can we breathe outside? Get high-speed internet access? Have we honed in on clean energy enough to travel back and forth to Earth without ruining the ozone layer even more?”

Koyama shakes his head and directs very hooded eyes in Shige’s general direction. “You are being far too logical about this. What kind of writer are you if you have no imagination?”

Shige gasps indignantly. “I do too have imagination!”

“You can’t even imagine living in space!”

“Because it’s too far in the future! Start off with something more realistic, like living on a mountain.”

“I already know you could live on a mountain. We have an entire TV show about it.”

Shige sighs. “I could, but I don’t think I would like it very much.”

“Why not?”

“It’s too isolated. I don’t like the idea of being so far away from another person.”

“What are you talking about? I would be there.”

Shige’s heart skips a beat. “You would?”

“Of course I would. It’s my mountain, isn’t it?”

Koyama sticks his nose up in fake smugness and Shige laughs out loud.

“In that case, it would be okay.”

“I’d be there in space too,” Koyama adds. “Wherever you go, I go too. Don’t you know? We’re a package deal. KoyaShige forever!”

He thrusts up his empty can in a mock toast and Shige shakes his head as he stumbles into the kitchen. It’s definitely time for some water.

“We could buy a spaceship,” Koyama goes on. “Or a planet! The possibilities are endless, Shige. Space goes on for, like, _ever_.”

Any other time, Shige would roll his eyes and make fun of Koyama’s tipsy affection. Now, he sinks back into the couch and revels in a strange feeling of warmth. Drunk babbling aside, it’s nice to know that Koyama thinks of him so strongly. Even with everything that’s uncertain in the world right now, Koyama is a permanent fixture in Shige’s life.

And just like that, everything falls into place.

* 

Shige signs the paperwork the first week of December.

Legally, he can move in now, but there are a lot of preparations he needs to make first. Aside from packing, he has to go through the tutorials and security measures to program the house. All while entering the busy holiday season.

He quickly learns it’s not as simple as hooking his brain up to the mainframe. He has to select his preferences, for one thing. Each option he’d elected to add seems to include endless features. Like what color to tint the lights and how often to scan for dust. It’s like setting up a new phone, only on a much larger scale.

Her name is Rose. The first thing Naomi had him do was give the house a new identity, and that’s the only name that came to mind. One of his favorite characters to write, the drag queen from Burn who opened his mind more than any real person. It’s also a word he wouldn’t say in ordinary conversation, so she would know when she was being called.

He spends the entire first week talking to Rose. Programming has to be done verbally or through a medium such as a phone. Shige much prefers speaking to tapping and scrolling. Even Rose’s automated voice can be adjusted, though there isn’t a “drag queen” setting to make it authentic. A soft-spoken, higher pitched voice is good enough.

As weird as it is to talk to someone who isn’t there, it’s not that much different than staff who fade into the background. After he sets her up, Rose takes him through every room for individual preferences.

He could wait and let Rose figure out what he wants after he moves in, but he’d rather have everything ready before then. The house is empty except for appliances and the bed in his room that he couldn’t pass up. Once he lies down on that squishy slice of heaven, he knows that he won’t even want to _think_.

He still has to paint too. In an unusual spurt of generosity, Massu offers to help him. He had wrinkled his nose at Shige’s choice of colors though. Shige is keeping most of his furniture, which are various shades of brown and black. Bright colors would be out of place. Massu respectfully disagrees.

Anything is better than white. Off-white, eggshell white, whatever they want to call it. Shige’s had white walls his entire life. Even in all his childhood homes, they didn’t paint the walls. Now that he has his own property, it’s all he wants to do.

With the border tape and protective tarps all set, there’s nothing to do but get started. He’d picked a dusty sea green for the main room with a darker hue for the accent wall in the kitchen. He might want panelling in the hallway eventually, but for now a sandy tan will do. The same color is used in the tatami room, laundry room, and storage areas. Sky blue for the toilet rooms, which is the only color Massu had approved.

Upstairs, the hallway matches its downstairs counterpart. Shige uses the darker green for his bedroom. His office is a dull sunflower yellow, and the third bedroom is pale lavender. He doesn’t realize he’d subconsciously chosen NEWS member colors until Massu points it out. According to him, an office doesn’t suit him at all.

“I thought you would never visit me if I bought a smart house?” Shige teases.

Massu shrugs. “I’m here now, aren’t I?”

He’d refused to consent to any of Rose’s screenings, which Shige respects. He didn’t even upload a picture of Massu’s face to the front door security system. Massu had to knock and wait to be let inside like a complete stranger.

They paint in near silence, save for the music that follows them from room to room, DJed by Shige’s brain. It’s a lot like Pandora, where Rose chooses songs based on some generic musical preferences. She also tweaks the playlist depending on what Shige skips or loves, only it all happens inside his head. And if he thinks of a particular song he wants to hear, Rose adds it to the rotation.

“I still think this is creepy,” Massu says as he watches Shige skip another song with his mind. “But it’s your life.”

“Isn’t it a nice house, though?” Shige prods. “Even aside from all the smart features?”

Massu leans back on the ladder and looks around like he hasn’t been here for four hours already. “It’s okay. It’s a house.”

Rolling his eyes, Shige gets back to work. He doesn’t need the validation, at least from Massu. He’d already gotten the go-ahead from his financial adviser and a blessing from his parents. And of course, Koyama would support him living on the International Space Station. His savings account is much emptier than before, though Yuuki and Naomi had gifted him the smart bed. It’s the least they could do, Naomi had told him, for finally taking this house off the market.

Besides, he feels good about it. There’s something about owning his own home that makes him feel like an adult. Even if it’s a whole lot more responsibility. If something stops working, he has to hire someone to fix it. The exterior and yard maintenance is on him too. But it’s worth it to have so much space, two entire floors with which to do whatever he wants. Nobody can tell him what he can and can’t do inside these walls.

Not sharing a wall with someone else is a plus too. Especially since he’s been staying up so late working on various projects. He has felt a little guilty disturbing the people who lived on either side of him (and underneath). He still has neighbors here, but there’s an entire fence separating them. The soundproofed walls would drown him out anyway. He could blare his music at top volume in every room of the house if he wanted to. The only way someone outside would hear it is if a window was open.

“It’s nice,” Massu says again. He presumably notices Shige’s thinking face and completely misreads it. “It’s yours.”

“Thank you.”

“Kato-san, the air is saturated with paint fumes. My filters are generating a surplus of electricity. Might I suggest opening a window?”

Shige bursts out laughing. Massu is jerking his head from side to side, facetiously looking for the source of the voice.

“Of course, Rose. You can open all the windows until it gets too cold.”

“Certainly, Kato-san.”

“How does she know what ‘too cold’ is?” Massu asks curiously.

“She monitors my body temperature,” Shige explains. “When I get uncomfortable, she adjusts the climate to accommodate. She would have probably shut the windows on her own, but I like telling her what to do.”

Massu snorts. “I gathered that from the ‘Kato-san’.”

“What, I can’t be respected in my own house?”

“It reminds me of how you used to complain that _certain people_ wouldn’t use honorifics with you at work.”

Massu gives him a knowing look, and immediately Shige thinks of Tegoshi. He laughs again at the concept of hearing that one’s condescending “Shige-chan~” boom out from these walls.

“What’s so funny?”

“Just grateful that I can control things, that’s all.”

“It’s funny that you think you’re the one with the power advantage here.”

“What do you mean?”

Massu reaches the corner of the wall and climbs down the ladder to reposition it. “I mean that _Rose_ could suffocate you and you’d never see it coming.”

“I am incapable of causing Kato-san any harm, directly or indirectly.”

She actually sounds hurt by the accusation.

“I don’t want her to talk to me,” Massu says firmly.

“Don’t say her name then. That’s what summons her.”

Massu huffs so forcefully that Shige expects him to pack up and leave. Instead, he keeps painting without another word. He’d already warned Shige that he wasn’t going to talk about anything personal in case he was being _recorded_. Now, it feels like he’s blatantly ignoring Shige.

Shige should have asked Koyama to help paint instead. He’d be horrible at it, but much more pleasant to be around. Usually, Shige enjoys Massu’s company, but not when he’s wearing his metaphorical tinfoil hat.

Not that Massu stops Shige from providing a late lunch. He even looks interested in how Shige can control the stove from the other room. Shige uses spoken words to not freak Massu out anymore than he already is. He’d already had the fridge and pantry stocked with grocery items. He'd brought over most of his dishes and cookware too. Priorities.

“Too bad it can’t stir for you,” Massu mutters when Rose notifies them that the contents of the pot have stuck together.

“It’s not magic, Taka,” Shige teases. “There’s actually a ‘helping hand’ feature I can add. It does mundane tasks like chop vegetables and scrub dishes, but that felt like a little _too_ much. Besides, I want to keep my subscriptions down as much as I can. My monthly fee is already astronomical.”

“I can imagine. I bet this is costing you a fortune.”

“Tell me about it.”

Massu stares at the wall next to the stove, where Shige plans on installing a spice rack. That’s next week’s project. He’s going to paint the shelving to match the walls in almost every room in hopes that they look less cluttered. Then, he doesn’t have to move over his standalone shelves.

“I think I would be okay with robots,” Massu finally says. “At least you have a way to disarm them and they can’t take over your mind.”

“Every technological dystopia universe _ever_ has robots turning on humans,” Shige points out. “Didn’t you see The Matrix?”

“I did, but I didn’t get it.” Massu shrugs. “It’s not as creepy when I can actually _see_ the AI. All I see right now is you making these possessed motions. And a disembodied voice sounding from everywhere.”

“When you put it like that, I understand why you’re so apprehensive about being here,” Shige admits. “I appreciate you coming to help paint despite it.”

“I like painting,” Massu answers simply. “It’s a great arm workout too.”

Shige laughs, aware of the soreness in his own biceps. “I definitely feel that.”

They finish eating and get back to work. At this rate, they’ll be done with the second coats by the end of the week. Right on schedule.

His calendar app flashes on the wall screen, which Massu happens to be painting. He nearly falls off the ladder, then lets out a nervous laugh when he sees Shige navigate to his to-do lists.

“If it makes you feel any better, I’m not used to it either,” Shige tells him. “Rose, can we set our communication to verbal only until my guest leaves?”

“Certainly, Kato-san. I await your command.”

Shige realizes too late that this setting disables his mental control of the wall screen. He didn’t need to make any changes anyway. He digs out his phone and turns it off, much to Massu’s relief.

“Sorry,” he says sheepishly.

“It’s fine.”

The music continues in the background without Shige’s input. He finds that he’s much more reluctant to skip a song if he has to say so, which is an odd realization.

“I hate this song,” Massu grumbles a little while later. The playlist has veered into a completely different direction from before.

Shige frowns at the vulgar English lyrics. “I do too, actually.”

“Can I request something?”

“Sure. Just call her name and tell her what you want to hear.”

“Rose, please play Avalon by NEWS.”

Shige laughs so hard that he almost misses Rose’s response.

“Kato-san, does your guest have permission to issue commands?”

“Only for music,” Shige tells her. “For now.”

Massu rolls his eyes. “Rose, please play only NEWS songs when I am here.”

“I do not know who you are,” Rose says.

“I’m the one you can’t read.”

“Nice to meet you, The One You Can’t Read.”

Shige almost chokes on his laughter while Massu gives him a dumbfounded look.

“Is she being sarcastic?”

“I have no idea.”

Now they’re both hunched over laughing. A combination of paint fumes and sheer silliness leaving them gasping for air. Massu jumps down from the ladder before he falls off, his smile bright when he finally meets Shige’s eyes.

Right then, Shige’s very aware of who’s _not_ there with them. They don’t traditionally do things as a group when they’re not working together. Even so, it seems natural that Koyama should be here too. Shige would let him paint the purple room and make fun of him for tearing up at whatever that makes him feel. He would probably want to test out Shige’s new kitchen, even if he doesn’t link to Rose.

Shige blames it on Massu’s choice of music.

* 

It’s almost Christmas by the time Shige finally moves in, but he puts up decorations anyway. Koyama does get nominated to assist with that task, purely because he’s tall.

“It’s so... _open_ ,” was Koyama’s general assessment of the property. Aside from saying “wow” so many times that he sounded like a broken record. Never mind that Shige had done the same thing.

Shige had let Rose give the tour this time. Koyama didn’t seem bothered by hearing a voice not attached to a person. He had even allowed her to scan him to see if he felt anything. He didn’t.

“You and Massu did a good job painting!” Koyama exclaims as they head upstairs for the first time. “I don’t see any bubbles or anything.”

“Thanks,” Shige answers. He’s strangely anxious for Koyama to see the purple room. Now that Koyama’s here in the flesh, Shige is no longer certain that he would mock him for feeling strongly about it. Shige feels pretty strongly about it himself.

It’s the first room Rose shows since there’s nothing in it. There’s nothing much in any of the rooms yet. Only the furniture Shige had paid a local moving company to bring over and lots of hastily marked boxes. He hadn’t put much thought into packing, just threw whatever was nearby into the same box. He’s dreading trying to organize everything now. Perhaps he should have enlisted Massu’s help for that too.

“Ah, it’s purple!” Koyama exclaims when he enters the empty room. He looks regularly happy instead of emotionally happy. Shige finds it kind of disappointing. “What are you going to put in here?”

“I don’t know yet,” Shige answers honestly. “I don’t want exercise equipment on the second floor, so maybe I’ll make it a guest bedroom or something.

_Or it could be your room._

Shige feels his face heat up at the thought that crosses his mind. Good thing Rose isn’t in the business of sharing his inner monologue.

“It faces the east too,” Koyama points out as he looks out both sets of windows. “Lots of sun in the morning.”

Watching Koyama check out the room feels so nerve-wracking. Like Shige craves his approval for some reason. Then Koyama opens the sliding door to the balcony and steps outside. He closes his eyes to the sunlight despite the cold winter air and practically glows.

They go to Shige’s new bedroom next. Koyama eyes the smart bed with a confused expression as Rose explains its features.

“What happened to your old bed?” Koyama asks.

“Donated it,” Shige answers. “’Tis the season.”

“Okay, but...” Koyama frowns as he presumably tries to work out whatever he’s got going on in his head. “If you’re gonna have a guest room, you could have put your old bed in there. Now you have to buy a new one.”

Shige blinks at the realization. “I don’t know for sure if I’m gonna make it a guest room yet.”

“Ah, okay.”

“Anyway, you have to lie on this bed. It’s the most comfortable thing in the world.”

That has Koyama laughing as they climb onto the mattress from opposite sides. “I didn’t know you were so enthusiastic to get me into bed.”

“Ha ha,” Shige says sarcastically. Though Koyama probably doesn’t hear it from the way he sinks into the mattress with a groan. “Nice, right?”

“Oh my _god_ ,” Koyama draws out, stretching and closing his eyes like he plans on taking a nap right here. “Whatever you paid for this, it was worth it.”

“It was actually a present from the realtor. She’s been trying to sell this house for months. It barely put a dent in her commission.”

“Why was it so hard to sell? Did someone die here?”

Any other time, Koyama would have made himself frantic from the mere thought of that. Right now, he’s nothing but calm.

“That’s what I thought too. But no, nobody has lived here before. People aren’t in the market for something this expensive, I guess.”

“Makes sense, with the economy and all.”

Koyama’s mumbling, seconds away from falling asleep. Shige remembers about the vibration feature and instructs Rose to turn it on in his head. He almost falls off the bed laughing when Koyama shrieks and jumps up. Koyama falls over himself to stand upright and clutch onto his arms.

“What the hell, Shige!”

Shige’s laughing too hard to respond right away, but Koyama only glares at him for a few seconds. “Don’t fall asleep in my bed then!”

“Fine. Rose-san, please show me the rest of the house.”

Shige considers letting Koyama go off on his own. But it’s probably rude to continue lying in his amazing, comfortable bed after kicking someone out of it. Very reluctantly, he drags himself back to his feet and trots behind Koyama as he walks down the hall. Upon entering Shige’s office, Koyama promptly halts.

Now, his eyes are misty.

“Shige, did you mean to paint all your bedrooms with our member colors?”

“Actually, no. Massu pointed it out while we were painting. Must have been subconscious.”

Koyama sniffs. “That’s so sweet.”

“You’re such a sap.”

“What if I am? You’re the one who’s always going on about toxic masculinity and how men need to embrace their emotions. Well, I’m embracing them.”

“More like you’re drowning in them.”

Koyama rolls his wet eyes and notices the door across the hall. “If the bathroom is pink, I’m gonna lose it.”

“Why on earth would I have a pink bathroom?”

“Why do you have a yellow office?!”

“It’s a dull yellow! It’s supposed to brighten my mood while I’m writing!”

Koyama huffs and flings open the bathroom door. He looks relieved to see it’s the same blue as the other one.

“No, it’s not for Ryo,” Shige says pointedly.

Koyama turns to look at him. “I completely forgot that was his member color.”

“To be fair, we didn’t use them much back then.”

“Yeah, but...wow.” Koyama pauses with his mouth open like he’s had an epiphany. “I hope I can forget the pink one this easily.”

“Might take a little more than six months for that.”

Koyama nods, looking so distraught that Shige crosses the room and throws his arms around him. He doesn’t remember the last time he hugged Koyama, at least a full-body hug instead of a one-shoulder bro hug. This feels right. The way Koyama immediately hugs back makes it even better.

Then Shige inwardly tells Rose to play an old SS501 song that Koyama used to love. Koyama laughs so hard that he falls out of their hug. Shige holds onto him, not trusting his balance, but Koyama pats him on the back a few times to say that he’s okay.

Shige heads back downstairs while Koyama uses the bathroom. When Koyama joins him in the kitchen, he announces with a big grin that according to the toilet, he is regular.

“I’m very happy for you,” Shige says seriously. "Thank you for sharing that with me."

Koyama laughs. “So, how about we christen your new home with a toast?”

It’s probably a bad idea to put up Christmas decorations while drinking, but it’s not like they’re getting sloshed. The manufacturer had gifted him complimentary champagne, and now was as good of a time as any to bust it out.

At least they’re not using any ladders. Shige wouldn’t trust either of them to hang lights from the roof cold sober. They’re only on the patio and balcony. He’d gotten a few things for the front yard, but nothing extravagant. Only a few other people in the neighborhood had decorated, but it wasn’t about competition for Shige. He just likes pretty lights.

Inside, there's only the tree. In Shige’s defense, it’s a pretty big tree. It almost reaches the ceiling of the tatami room where he has it perched on top of a floor protector. There’s nothing else in the tatami room except for some cushions, though he has a kotatsu on order. He’s excited to have one again.

“Can’t you use this as a guest room?” Koyama asks as he untangles strings of lights. “You have a futon, right?”

“I do, but I was going to make this more of an living area.” Shige points through the fusuma doors to the main room. “Activities in there, relaxing in here. My kotatsu should come in the next few days.”

“Ooh,” Koyama says. “That’ll be nice. Rose-san, please play some Christmas music!”

“Kato-san, does—”

“Yes, Koyama has permission to control the music.” Shige eyes Koyama when he grins. “Don’t make me rescind it.”

Koyama sticks out his tongue like the adult he is. “Yes, _Kato-san_.”

They both sing along with Mariah Carey as they decorate the tree. Shige has accumulated a lot of ornaments over the years. He tries to buy one new one every year to commemorate the year that’s about to end. This year, he’d bought a little house ornament, on which he writes “2020” in green Sharpie before hanging it on the tree.

Koyama gets tinsel all over the place and some of the bulbs are out, but it’s festive enough. When they’re done, Shige wraps the skirt around the bottom of the tree to cover the floor protector. Koyama makes a grand production of “sticking the tree up the angel’s butt,” giggling the whole time. Shige should probably cut him off soon.

“Rose, what is Koyama’s blood alcohol content?”

“Point-zero-nine.”

Koyama gasps dramatically. “I’m drunk.”

“Looks like you’re my first overnight guest,” Shige says. “My futon is out with all the boxes in the main room.”

“Are we going to sleep now?” Koyama asks with a pout so big that Shige laughs out loud.

“No. Just letting you know where it is.”

“I want to sleep in the purple room!”

“You’re carrying it upstairs, then.”

Koyama grumbles so much that Shige ends up helping. The two of them bump into both the wall and the railing because Shige’s not that sober either. After dumping the futon into the empty bedroom, Koyama turns tail and goes right into Shige’s bed. He spreads out like a starfish on top of the bedspread.

“I could make it vibrate again, you know.”

“Go ahead. I know it’s coming this time.”

For fun, Shige tells Rose to turn on the vibration again. Koyama lets out an elongated groan that shakes with the bed and Shige laughs as he shoves him over. Koyama ends up on his back and settles into the mattress. A few seconds later, it stops moving when Shige starts to feel annoyed by it.

“Wanna watch Netflix?” Shige asks.

“Sure.”

Koyama lets out another “wow” when the top half of the wall opposite the bed brightens enough to see well. It also positions itself at the perfect eye level. Shige navigates the Netflix menu, scrolling through the anime titles.

“Ah, Aggretsuko!” Koyama exclaims. “I love that angry cat.”

“I haven’t seen it yet.”

“Then we have to start from the beginning! You’ll like it.”

Shige’s comfortable enough not to care. He’s not tired, though he might fall asleep anyway with how relaxed he is. Koyama shifts around next to him, but he can’t feel a thing. The only reason he knows it happens is because he can see it out of his peripheral vision.

Then Koyama flops onto his side, his arm stretched behind his back with a pained look on his face. Concern pokes at Shige’s bliss.

“What’s wrong?”

“My back itches and I can’t reach it.”

“Turn around. I’ll get it.”

Koyama flops onto the other side. Shige scratches around Koyama's shoulder blades until he gets a satisfied “ah.”

“Better?”

“No. I can barely feel it.”

Shige rolls his eyes at Koyama’s thick sweater and shoves both hands under the bottom hem. Koyama’s skin is warm and smooth, all muscles and angles as Shige makes his way up to the shoulder blades.

“Here?”

“A little to the left. No, the right. Higher. Left again.”

“I had no idea your back was a clitoris.”

Koyama bursts out laughing, and Shige joins him.

“Oh my _god_ , Shige.”

“I usually don’t hear _that_ until I finally get it right.”

Koyama makes a pained noise, which fades into another “ah” when Shige finds the right spot. “I don’t know why I’m so itchy.”

“Rose, why is Koyama so itchy?”

“Koyama-san has a mild allergy to wool.”

“What, really?” Koyama looks around like he’s going to find a corporeal person to gape at. “I didn’t know that.”

“It’s a very small allergy,” Rose goes on. “The vibration of the bed may have exacerbated it.”

Shige starts to tug up Koyama’s sweater. “Just take it off.”

“But then I will be cold.”

“Not in this bed, you won’t.”

Koyama’s still complaining as he pulls the sweater over his head. Shige doesn’t see any red patches on his back, just some light scratch marks from his nails. He goes right back to scratching even though he probably doesn’t need to. He's mindlessly keeping his hands busy, and Koyama lets him.

“Warm,” Koyama mumbles a little while later, snuggling with himself as he curls up on his side. “I’m so jealous of your bed. I want one.”

“You can sleep in here tonight, if you want.”

The words slip out, but Shige doesn’t regret them. He’ll hardly notice Koyama next to him, even if he snores as loudly as he usually does. Shige is _that_ comfortable.

“Okay,” Koyama agrees easily. “Thanks.”

“Sure.”

They watch a few episodes of Aggretsuko, although Shige’s not paying that much attention. It’s funny enough to make them both laugh every now and then, leaving Shige very aware of Koyama’s light, airy voice.

It feels more natural than it should, lying together in bed watching TV. They did it when they were younger, back when they lived with their parents. For the past eight years, probably longer, there was a couch to serve the purpose.

Shige could get used to this. Not having Koyama in his bed specifically, but having Koyama around period. Even if Koyama has his own room, Shige doesn’t doubt that he would keep trying to lie in this bed. At least it’s big enough for both of them to have their own space.

Not to mention the whole rest of the house. There were plenty of places to be alone if Shige needed it. He has his office and the tatami room, not to mention that small storage area that could be his painting studio. There’s the balcony too. He could probably go all day without seeing Koyama at all, at least until he crawled into Shige’s bed at night.

The thought should bother him more than it does, but it feels right. He’s not even that drunk anymore, much closer to sleep than before. A soft wheeze from next to him shows that Koyama’s already knocked out. Shige gets them both under the covers and stretches out in what feels like the linen version of a toaster. Then, he watches Koyama’s face more than the animated animals on the wall.

Yeah, he could definitely get used to this.

******* ** ****

Shige may not be the neatest person in the world, but he cannot stand half-finished projects. That includes moving in. He makes it three days with unopened boxes in almost every room before tearing into them. The only reason it takes that long is because he has a lot of work leading up to New Year’s Eve.

Koyama busy too, though he wouldn’t be the best person to help unpack. Koyama may be a freak about cleaning, but that does not apply to organization. He would undoubtedly spend an entire hour in the same box, asking about every little thing and where to put it.

As it is, Shige spends most of the day running up and down the stairs. He hadn’t planned ahead enough to pack for the room in which the contents were going. His souvenirs and gifted trinkets went on the shelves in the tatami room. Books and desk supplies stay in the office. Thanks to the shelves built into the walls, he was able to downsize his actual furniture by a lot. It was nice to actually walk around his entire desk in his new office.

He’d gotten a new desk chair, a fancy leather one with a high back. Due to the placement of the wall screen, his desk faced away from one of the windows. Luckily, his curtains were thick enough to block the light during Zoom meetings. The books were still stacked behind his desk anyway.

Every time he passes the upstairs hallway, he sees _something_ in the empty bedroom. It’s a trick of the mind, he knows, but he goes to look anyway. After Koyama was here the other night, it’s easier to imagine this room filled with his bedroom set. There’s even a little cat bed in the corner for Milk.

In the rest of the house, Koyama’s belongings materialize. Koyama’s weight bench appears next to Shige’s treadmill. There’s an entire empty section of the tatami room that’s the same size as Milk’s cat condo. The barstools Koyama has for his own breakfast bar would actually match Shige’s new kitchen.

It’s become commonplace to imagine Koyama here too. Shige actually starts feeling lonely whenever he’s home. He's very aware that he’s eating meals and watching TV by himself. When he stops to think about it, he probably wouldn’t be doing these things with Koyama every day either. Their schedules are too different—Koyama’s an early bird while Shige’s a night owl. They only agree on TV shows and movies when it’s a rare occurrence, not every day.

Still, having him here would be enough. Shige’s fear about owning such a large space by himself seems to be coming true. He considers getting a dog, but the hole in his heart is more human-sized. He wouldn’t have to take Koyama for walks twice a day anyway. Probably.

By New Year’s Eve, he’s come to a decision. It’s very reluctant, because Shige’s spent a long time living by himself. He has no idea how bringing another person into his space will pan out. Still, he’s spent most of the week way too bummed for someone who just bought a very expensive house.

“Rose, am I okay? I’m feeling sad for some reason.”

“Your scans are all normal, Kato-san. Your blood pressure is a little high, but that’s typical for males your age with generalized anxiety. Might I suggest some deep, calming breaths?”

“Okay. Thank you.”

He doesn’t expect her to count with him, giving him no choice but to take five long inhales and exhales. Afterwards, he just feels lightheaded.

“Kato-san, I need to switch us to verbal communication only for the time being. The number of questions running through your mind right now are overloading me. I am unable to process deductive reasoning since you keep changing the parameters."

“Ah, sorry, Rose. I know what I want, but I don’t know if it’s _right_ , so I’m conflicted.”

“A philosophical conundrum since the beginning of time. Should I provide a few theories to help you work it out?”

“No.” Shige puts his head in his hands. “It’s not a matter of morals. It’s a matter of...I don’t actually know. Pride? Fear? I’m scared he’ll move in and annoy me and we’ll fight and it’ll be bad.”

Shige inhales sharply, struggling to hold his breath. Rose counts him out again. Once he calms down, he stares at the blank space in the tatami room from where he’d been parked under the new kotatsu. There are only a few hours before he has to be backstage for Countdown, so he needs to get his act together soon.

“He could also say no, right?”

“...Yes,” Shige admits. “Thanks for pointing that out.”

“Certainly.”

He doesn’t know whether she caught the sarcasm or not, and it really doesn’t matter. Shige already plans to take Koyama aside after the performances tonight and ask him to move in. Good thing they always have a lot of downtime waiting for their slot on CDTV so he can keep stressing about it.

“Based on my logic algorithms, I predict he will say yes. With much enthusiasm.”

“What?”

“Based on my logic algorithms—”

“No, I heard you. I want you to elaborate.”

Now Shige’s looking right at the wall like Rose is going to materialize before his eyes. After the week he’s had, anything is possible. He’s already imagining Koyama curled up under the kotatsu with him. His arms would be pulled into his hoodie since he’s too tall to fit his entire body under the heated blanket.

“When Koyama-san was here, he exhibited high levels of happiness and longing. While I did not have full access to his neural pathways, I did sense his physical reactions. Within the constraints of my programming, I can deduce that he enjoyed his time here and didn't want to leave. Thus, he is likely to accept an offer to spend more time here and not have to leave again.”

“I wish real life was as simple as computer logic.”

“The complexity of the human mind is far beyond what any machine is capable of understanding.”

“Isn’t that the truth.”

He expects her to answer, but she doesn’t. She seems to have learned rhetorical questions. It’s only been a month, and she’s already picked up on his nuances and general attitude. Talking to her is as easy as talking to a real person.

That thought should scare him, but the only thing he’s afraid of right now is talking to Koyama tonight. He continues relaxing for as long as he can. Eventually, he drags himself back to his feet to get ready. It’s already a momentous occasion as the first time ringing in the New Year as three members. His latest decision just adds to it.

“I’m not making any big decisions at _all_ next year,” he grumbles as he leaves. He grabs his keys even though he doesn't need to.

In the back of his head, he hears Koyama call out, “See you when you get back!”

Rose doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t have to.

*

“I’m getting too old for this,” Koyama says as he stretches out on a row of chairs.

“Most of the people performing here are as old as you, if not older,” Shige points out.

Koyama whines and snuggles with his coat. The downside to not wearing layers on stage is that it actually gets cold backstage.

It’s two in the morning, an entire hour and a half before their slot. Naturally, Shige’s in his prime while Koyama’s dragging ass. Shige realizes that this may set the tone for their cohabitation. That thought terrifies Shige a little less now that he’s looking at Koyama’s gentle face.

“Do you like living alone?”

“What is this, all of a sudden?”

Koyama forces his eyes open to look at Shige, his brow creased in concern. Shige feels a little guilty for keeping him from his nap, but it’ll be worse if he waits until after they perform. Shige himself may not be awake enough for this discussion then.

“You lived at home until you were almost thirty because you didn’t want to be alone,” Shige explains. “Have you gotten used to it?”

“I mean, I guess.” Koyama stretches a little, hissing at the inevitable pain of twisting his body. “It wasn’t easy at first, but Milk-chan helps.”

“Would you consider living with another person?”

“I do plan on getting married someday, you know.”

Shige gives him a look. “I know that. I’m talking about before then. Right now, as you are. Do you like living alone?”

“ _No_ , okay? I fucking hate it.”

“You do?” Shige’s eyebrows rise at that.

Koyama sighs and sits upright, wincing as he tries to straighten his spine. Shige watches him carefully, all his attention on Koyama’s face and the words that are coming out of his mouth.

“I’m lonely every day. Not having another person around for weeks at a time is very hard for me. I struggled a lot earlier this year when my mom couldn’t even come by. Video calls aren’t enough. Neither is being physically distanced from everyone at work. I went from always having someone around to talk to about my day to having a cat that meows at me until I feed her.”

He looks so distraught that Shige reaches out a hand to gently touch his forearm. It’s a small gesture, but Koyama smiles anyway.

“I understand,” Shige tells him. “I’m feeling that way a lot lately.”

Even admitting that out loud is a huge weight off of his shoulders. Though Koyama looks like Shige had just told him he wanted to elope with a giraffe.

“Seriously? But you’ve always been so adamant about living alone and having full control of your life. Or did all that extra space unlock some hidden desire to be more sociable?”

“Something like that,” Shige answers slowly.

“So what, you’re looking for a roommate, then?” Koyama looks more skeptical than Shige thought capable of him at this hour. “It’s not the best time to move in with a stranger, you know. You don’t know where anyone has been.”

“That’s not—”

“You’d really trust someone you don’t know around all your stuff? Will Rose-san keep them from robbing you?”

“No, idiot. I want _you_ to move in.”

Shige huffs in frustration while Koyama seems to deflate in front of him. It’s almost comical to watch him retract from protective tiger to tiny kitten. He curls up in his chair while staring at Shige with eyes that are much more awake now.

“Are you serious?”

“As a heart attack.”

Koyama peers at him, like he’s searching for something in Shige’s face that will prove this is a joke. As Shige’s still narrowing his eyes and frowning, that seems unlikely. Regardless, he makes himself relax, forcing his face into a gentler expression. Koyama has to be handled in a delicate manner, especially after dropping a bomb on him like this.

“You don’t have to answer me right now,” Shige tells him. “Just think about it, okay?”

“Okay, but...” Koyama swallows as he presumably tries to find his words, still staring in disbelief at Shige. “Why me?”

“Because you won’t steal my stuff,” Shige says seriously, and Koyama cracks a smile. “To be honest, there’s no one else I’d even consider. It _has_ to be you.”

That’s the truest thing he’s said all night, and he feels it in his heart. Koyama must feel it too, because he visibly melts in front of Shige. Shige finds himself sincerely hoping that Koyama doesn’t cry. They don’t need to kick off the new year with rumors about them not getting along.

“What about Milk-chan?”

“The air filters completely remove pet dander.”

“And I’m obsessive about vacuuming up cat hair.”

“And that.”

Koyama’s smile gets bigger. Shige can tell that he’s trying not to look too hopeful, because Shige is doing the same thing. It’s silly. They’ve known each other for too long to hold back their feelings like this. Yet, it’s happening.

“I want to say yes, obviously, but I also want to be careful,” Koyama explains. He speaks like he’s the one with a neural link to Shige’s mind. “This is a huge commitment, even for us.”

“It is.”

“But you’re the one who has a fear of commitment, so—”

“I do _not_ have a fear of commitment—”

“—if you want us to live together, I can’t think of any reason to say no.”

Shige falls silent and examines Koyama’s face. He doesn’t know what he’s looking for, but all he finds is warmth and comfort, like a living kotatsu. Strong sensation wells up inside him and he quickly looks toward the ceiling. He’s _not_ going to cry, not with a full face of stage makeup in front of a bunch of musical artists more popular than them.

“Shige, are you crying?”

“ _No_.”

“I had no idea you felt so strongly about me.”

“It’s not like that—”

“I know it’s not. We’ve always been important to each other, right? I guess I thought we’ve fallen out of that kind of best-friendship lately, but now I know that’s not true. The fact that you actually want me in your space says more than labels ever could.”

Shige takes a deep breath as those words affect him even more. “So, that’s a yes then?”

“It’s a _hell_ yes!”

Koyama cheers so loudly that a bunch of people look over. Shige rushes to bow his head toward them in apology and they go back to their own business. Then he turns to Koyama, who’s beaming more brightly than the fluorescent lights over their heads. All at once, he feels a million pounds lighter.

They’re still grinning at each other when Massu returns from cheering on the other groups. This means their cue is soon.

Massu looks a little concerned. “What happened?”

“Shige asked me to move in with him!” Koyama yells.

Shige doesn’t even cringe at the volume. Everyone will find out soon enough. It’s not like they can keep it a secret. Public reaction hadn’t even registered to Shige as a deciding factor. It may even improve their group dynamic.

“Really,” Massu replies, looking between the pair of them like he’s waiting for them to call out the joke.

“Yes, really,” Koyama emphasizes. “Shige’s lonely in his big new house and I’m the only one who can make it better!”

“You don’t have to tell everyone that,” Shige hisses.

When he looks back up, Massu’s staring at him with an indescribable expression.

“What?” he asks in defense.

“Nothing,” Massu says quickly. “Do what you like.”

Shige side-eyes him, but then they’re called to standby and he has to get back into performance mode. Massu doesn’t look that affected by the news, but getting Shige’s anxiety to believe that is a struggle.

Then Koyama practically shines on stage, and Shige’s worries just fade away.

* 

Living with Koyama isn’t much different than going on vacation with Koyama. Not that they’ve taken a vacation by themselves for several years now. Still, it’s easy enough to fall back into those patterns like Shige’s house is a very large rental on the beach.

Koyama’s not that attached to any of his furniture, and his sister is happy to take most of it off his hands. The purple room is big enough for his bedroom set and desk. His low table is light enough to place in the tatami room (along with Milk’s cat condo). He only has two barstools instead of the three they need, but they’re still sold at the place Koyama had bought them. They can place an order for one more.

Shige has this unusual feeling of elation as he watches the juniors from Koyama's aniki-kai move in his stuff. The empty gaps in his heart as well as his home are being filled with each box and piece of furniture. Koyama’s minimalism matches well with Shige’s maximalism.

Milk is skittish at first, but then adjusts to having more space to run around. She’s actually cute as she checks everything out; Shige finds that he likes her much more when he can breathe. When she curls up on the windowsill like in Shige’s imagination, his heart swells even more.

“I feel like we’re getting married.”

Shige laughs as Koyama stands on the same scale-like step he had when he first hooked up to the house. He’s a little surprised Koyama had agreed to full immersion right away, though it came as a relief. Now Koyama will be part of his home, completely.

After several seconds of scanning, the wall flashes with Koyama’s biological information.

“Welcome home, Koyama-san,” Rose says, and as expected, Koyama tears up.

“Welcome home,” Shige adds, laughing again when Koyama throws both arms around his neck and hugs him. “Come on, we have a lot of work to do.”

Koyama whines, but goes back to unpacking. Shige helps as much as he can, intermingling Koyama’s few decorations with his on the shelves. _Their_ shelves. In _their_ house. Koyama insisted on paying something since it was so expensive. So, Shige agreed to let him pay half of the monthly subscription of smart house features and any repairs.

It takes a couple weeks for them both to be satisfied with the layout. It doesn’t help that this would be the time of year that they’d be putting together their spring concert. Only the world still isn’t safe enough for large groups of people to congregate indoors. At least they have another online event scheduled for later this month. But that’s nothing compared to a whole concert run.

Shige has another drama to focus on too. Having Koyama around more softens the blow of not releasing an album yet, but only a little. He’d forgotten how raw Koyama is when he’s not in work mode. To anyone else, there’s not much difference between his stage face and his real face. But Shige’s known him long enough to see the underlying facets that make him a human instead of an idol.

For instance, Koyama doesn’t always notice when Shige walks into the room. Idol Koyama is honed into everything Shige does like he has his own special Shige-GPS. Private-time Koyama is so engrossed in whatever he’s doing that Shige has to bang pans to get his attention. Growing up in a restaurant with a sibling has conditioned Koyama to tune out his surroundings and focus. That's something Shige still struggles with to this day.

Shige is aware of Koyama’s presence in everything he does. When he rolls out of bed around early afternoon, he knows Koyama has already been awake for hours. When he works in his office late at night, he knows that Koyama’s sleeping in his room with Milk curled up on his head. The hours they are both awake, if they’re home, are spent sharing space with very little conflict.

Having someone to greet him when he comes home after a long day feels even better than he’d thought it would. Koyama doesn’t have dinner ready for him or anything—Shige would be worried if he did. But Koyama will interrupt whatever he’s doing to call out “Welcome home!” right after Rose does. It's enough to increase that meter of happiness that’s been filling since the day Koyama moved in.

“Hey.”

Koyama looks up from where he’d been playing on his phone. He's curled up on the couch like he’d been posed there by a photographer. Milk snoozes in his lap, his free hand stroking her fur as he scrolls.

Shige clears his throat and takes a seat at the other end up the couch, coffee in hand. “I wanted to check in and see how you’re adjusting.”

“Great,” Koyama answers. “I still feel like I’m living in a fancy hotel, but that means I appreciate it more, right?”

“I guess.” Shige yawns. Maybe he should have waited until he was more awake to have this conversation. “I noticed you’ve been doing some cleaning in the morning and I wanted to make sure you were okay with that.”

Koyama shrugs. “It’s not that much. I’m used to picking up before I start my day, and it’s not like you’re leaving out messes. Besides, you do all the cooking, right? It seems like a fair compromise.”

“I haven’t cooked much lately, but—”

“It’s fine! You’re busy right now, I get it. My mom still brings me food once a week. I think she’s a little disappointed she doesn’t have to do my laundry anymore.”

Shige laughs as he remembers showing Koya-mama around on her first visit. She’d been as expressive and impressed as Koyama had. She’d been particularly jealous at how they could just tell Rose to release the robot vacuum or start the washer. All they had to do was clean out lint traps and make sure the detergent and fabric softener channels were full. Aside from that, it was only throwing their clothes into a chute after a bath and calling out a command. The machine separated them by color and cycle too.

Truthfully, all Koyama was doing was putting away dishes and hanging up clothes to dry. Shige made sure the dishwasher was loaded before he went to bed and ran it when it was full. Fifteen years of having no one to clean up after him has made him reluctant to leave things lying around. The worst he’ll do is not fold up a blanket after using it or put down a book he’s reading in the last place he was.

“I don’t want you to think that I’m taking advantage of you,” Shige tells him. “And it’s weird knowing that you are pinning my underwear to the clothesline.”

“I can leave them in the washer, if you want,” Koyama offers, a hint of amusement on his face. “They might get washed twice though.”

“I’d suggest that we do our laundry at separate times, but I think the system we have now is working. Otherwise, we’d be wasting the features of the smart washer and probably water too.”

“In that case, you might have to get used to me touching your boxer-briefs.”

Koyama’s giving him a knowing look, and Shige sighs.

“As long as you’re okay with it.”

“It’s not like they’re dirty! I don’t even look at them any longer than it takes to determine that they’re not mine. It’s just another piece of fabric to put on the line, honest.”

“Okay then.”

“Any other grievances you wish to voice, or do you want to open both of your eyes first?”

Shige makes a big show of rolling his eyes that only serves to make them a little sore. “I’m awake! I take awhile to get going in the morning, especially if I don’t have to work.”

“No filming today?”

“Nope! I have the _entire day off_.”

Koyama gasps in fake shock. “Whatever will you do with yourself?”

“Funny you should ask. First, I plan on lazing around as long as humanly possible, then I want to make this recipe I saw online. I should work out sometime too.”

“Kato-san, would you like to start a to-do list?” Rose calls out.

“No, thank you. I’m taking it easy today.”

Koyama gives him a smug grin. “Rose-san, please tell Shige how many items I’ve crossed off my to-do list so far today.”

“Koyama-san has completed twelve items on his to-do list,” Rose reports. “Though only three were predetermined. The other nine were added as they were done.”

Shige laughs. “Nice try, Kei.”

“Hey, it’s still progress!” Koyama exclaims. “It’s better to add tasks as you complete them anyway. Then you can feel good about everything you do instead of feeling bad about everything you don’t do.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

“You and I really are different, huh?”

Koyama gives him a fond smile that he can’t help from returning.

“Yeah, but in the right ways.”

That earns a noncommittal noise from Koyama. He returns to his phone while Shige enjoys his company. Shige’s still not used to existing with another person without any pressure to socialize, and it’s nice. He likes Koyama even more when he isn’t responsible for entertaining him. Koyama can entertain himself just fine.

“It’s weird to have her in my head though,” Koyama says a few moments later. Shige’s mindlessly sifting through the world news headlines on the wall screen.

“I bet. She kicked me out my first week here. I have to call her because the constant stream of consciousness overloads her.”

“I didn’t know that was an option. I think I’m getting used to her though. She only talks to me when you’re not around anyway.”

“That’s how she’s programmed. In case you’re having a private thought you don’t want me to hear.”

“To be fair, you probably don’t want to hear them.”

“I absolutely don’t.”

They both laugh and Shige drains the last of his coffee. Too bad there isn’t technology to evaporate liquid in one place and make it precipitate in another. Or he could just make the effort to get up and go into the kitchen.

“Do you want more coffee? I’m gonna grab some.”

Shige narrows his eyes at Koyama. “Did Rose tell you I was thinking about that?”

“No? Did you specifically tell her to tell me?”

“No...”

“Coincidences are a thing, Shige. Give me your mug.”

Shige holds the mug over his head as Koyama hops to his feet with the energy of someone who’s been up for at least five hours. Milk looks betrayed at being gently pushed out of his lap. Then, she eyes Shige contemplatively.

“Hello,” he whispers, watching her ears and tail perk up. “Thank you for not scratching my furniture.”

Milk meows at him and it’s seriously cute. Slowly, Shige lifts his hand and watches her cower for a second before sniffing at him. He moves a fingertip just enough to scritch her forehead. She propels herself into his lap, head-butting his hand until he strokes her fur. Her purrs vibrate his legs.

“Here you go—ah, you’re petting Milk-chan! Is that okay?”

“I think so,” Shige answers, continuing to keep his voice down in case it startles her. Koyama places the mug of steaming coffee on the low table in front of him and returns to his cushion. “I don’t feel anything in my eyes or nose.”

“Rose-san filters the air very well,” Koyama says. “I don’t even notice the litter box anymore. She has to remind me to clean it.”

Shige laughs. “Don’t they have automated ones?”

“They do! But you still have to empty the solid waste every couple of days. Maybe your next smart house update will include a process for that.”

“Maybe.”

Koyama’s watching Shige intently, cooing at how cute his cat is and how happy he is that Shige’s enjoying her too. The way he talks to Milk is different than Shige’s ever heard his voice. It's low and soft with a melodic lift that makes Shige feel some kind of way.

“Don’t touch your face!”

The drastic shift in Koyama’s tone has Shige jerking enough to startle Milk. She makes a displeased noise before jumping to the floor. Shige freezes with his hand in mid-air, unaware that he was even raising it.

“Go wash your hands,” Koyama demands, and Shige scrambles to his feet faster than his body wants to move.

The automatic faucet and soap dispenser in the kitchen keep him from touching anything. When he’s confident that all the cat hair is gone, he dries his hands with a dish towel. His heart pounds like he’d narrowly avoided something dangerous.

“You shouldn’t lead her on,” Koyama says as he saunters up to the breakfast bar. “Now she’ll want you to pet her every time she sees you.”

“She’s very soft,” is all Shige can think to say. “And rumbly.”

Koyama grins. “She likes it here very much, I think.”

“And her owner?”

“Obviously, I like it here too.”

Something flutters in Shige’s belly. It must be the caffeine.

* 

It’s still the middle of winter, but it’s nice enough for Shige to work on the small outdoor area. After the mountain debacle, Koyama declared that he has no desire to go outside ever again. While that’s obviously an exaggeration, Shige took that to mean he didn’t need to be consulted about patio decor.

Shige had only had a small balcony at his apartment, so he didn't have any patio furniture. Now that he has more space, he splurged on a wicker set that wouldn’t get ruined in the rain. His dad helped him pick out a barbeque grill, despite Rose’s protests that the stove is capable of grilling. There’s something about doing it outside that makes Shige feel like a real homeowner.

“Now that it’s not so cold, we should have a get-together,” Shige says. He's lugging around decorative rocks that are way too heavy to be fake.

“We’ll be inviting Corona-chan too.”

Koyama gives him a knowing look where he’s lingering by the front door, supervising more than helping. Shige huffs as he wipes his hands on his yardwork pants and heads to the side of the house. It's only wide enough for a line of gardening pots.

“It’s fine if it’s outside, right? Just our families. My parents have only had a video tour.”

“Where exactly is everyone going to sit outside? You have a loveseat and two chairs. Besides, aren’t they all going to want to see inside the house anyway?”

Shige sighs, frowning at the tiny area paved with artfully broken stone. “You’re probably right.”

“Let’s invite only your parents over,” Koyama suggests, grinning over his iced coffee. “We’ll keep our distance and wear masks just in case.”

“Okay.”

Shige cheers up a little more as he sets up the rest of the garden area. He’d gotten some herbs from the small market down the street and a giant bag of potting soil from the flower shop. Someday, he wants to plant flowers in the front yard, but he might hire somebody for that. It looks like a lot of work.

The next morning, Rose greets him with a message from Koyama that he’d already watered the plants. Shige shakes his head and smiles.

His parents are thrilled about the invitation. They schedule the visit for the next afternoon they’re all free. Shige’s wrapping up his drama, but NEWS has been working on an album so there are a lot of meetings for that too. Not to mention all the time he spends putting together his solo.

It’s not that much different working with Koyama now that they live together. Shige had feared that they would get sick of each other, but they spend more time together at work than they do at home. Shige can count on one hand how many times they spend more than a few minutes together at home in one week. Even then, it's only because they happen to be in the same room.

If anything, Shige wants to spend even _more_ time with him. It’s silly to admit even to himself, because Koyama is just across the hall or down the stairs. Shige’s the one who chooses to stay holed up in his office despite having a wall screen in almost every room of the house. He’s confident that Koyama would drop whatever he was doing to hang out with Shige in a heartbeat.

The thing is, Shige doesn’t know what they’d _do_. Sitting around drinking is pointless when they already talk to each other during the day. They don’t have the same taste in movies and Shige can only take so much anime. They could play video games, but weirdly enough, that’s something Shige likes to do alone.

On the day of the barbeque, Shige doesn’t feel that great, but Rose claims he’s healthy. It’s nothing physical; his mind is just racing. Koyama thinks he’s nervous about his parents coming over, which doesn’t make any sense to Shige. He’s a grown adult, surely he doesn’t still need their approval?

At any rate, he fires up the grill and takes out the meat he’d marinated all night. His dad is bringing a potato salad and Koyama had cut up vegetables for kabobs. The weather is nice if not a little chilly. Perfect for Shige while Koyama’s bundled up like it’s the arctic.

“Anything else I can do?” Koyama asks, hugging himself in his hoodie and flannel coat.

Shige shakes his head as he checks the time on his phone. “They should be here any minute. Did you hide the porn?”

“Ha ha,” Koyama replies sarcastically. “All my porn is online anyway.”

“That’s even worse. What if my mom tests out the wall screen and gets tentacle hentai?”

“If that happens, blame Rose-san, not me.”

“I notice you did not deny the tentacle affiliation.”

“And I hope you enjoy whatever thought that gives you.”

Shige makes a face while Koyama laughs out loud.

“Like you’ve never watched stuff like that! Remember when Ryo-chan sent us that rope bondage video and—”

“Oh my _god_ , we are not talking about that right now.”

“It’s no different than tentacles!”

Shige has his mouth open to respond, then he hears car doors close on the other side of the privacy fence. He stares hard at Koyama as he makes his way toward the driveway, where his parents’ car has pulled up behind his own. His dad is already helping his mom out of the passenger seat.

“You better pray they didn’t hear you,” Shige hisses to Koyama, who scoffs.

“I bet they would agree!”

At least he’s speaking under his breath now. Shige puts on a face mask and runs to take the covered bowl from his dad’s free hand.

“Look at this beautiful house!” his mom exclaims behind her own mask. “You did well, son!”

“I’m proud of you,” his dad adds. Even with half of his face covered, Shige recognizes the softness in his eyes.

Maybe he did crave their approval still. He feels better as they ooh and ahh over all the features of the house, which he calls out from six feet away. When they get scanned, his mom gives his dad a hard time about his high cholesterol on the health report. Shige smiles at the familiarity.

Koyama stays even further away, but the corners of his eyes display his happiness too. He’s always liked Shige’s parents and hasn’t seen them for a good number of years now. They’re not the type of family to meet every week like Koyama’s. In fact, Shige hasn’t seen them since the beginning of the year due to the health risks. They video chat once a month, if that.

No questionable animation flashes on when Rose shows them the wall screen. Though Shige can feel Koyama’s smirk through his mask. His parents are unusually ept at electronics for their age. They ask Rose a lot of technical questions about how the screen works and if there are any physical devices. Aside from Shige's Blu-ray player and the video consoles he had already owned, everything's online.

Upstairs is much of the same. Shige's parents praise the “boys” on keeping their rooms clean like they’re teenagers again. This leads his mom to delve into a story about how Shige used to get grounded for leaving his room messy for days at a time.

“It’s because I had so much stuff!” Shige exclaims while Koyama cackles in the corner. “I was working too!”

His parents laugh at him and Shige resigns himself to getting picked on for the rest of the afternoon. It’s not that upsetting, he’s just wired to react in defense to any and all attacks on his pride. And Koyama is living his best life egging them on.

All in all, it’s a nice visit and there’s enough room for the four of them to eat outside. His mom insists on helping with the dishes and Koyama offers to show her to the kitchen. This leaves Shige with his dad who’s scrubbing the grill with vigor.

“I want you to know that I’m happy for you.”

Shige feels as awkward as his father sounds. They’re not the typical men who avoid talking about their feelings, so the fact that it’s getting weird is what’s odd. His dad has always chosen to learn about "alternative lifestyles" so he can be less ignorant. Not wanting to be caught uninformed is something they have in common.

“Thank you. That means a lot, coming from you.”

His dad gives him a warm smile. “I can’t say I didn’t see it coming, though I didn’t think you would settle down so soon. This year has changed things, hasn’t it?”

“Wait...what?” Shige asks, bewildered. “Since when is buying a house considered settling down?”

“Not only the house,” his dad says slowly. “The house _mate_.”

Shige blinks. “What about Koyama?”

“You two have always been close, right? It’s only natural that things would end up this way. I just wish you would have told your mother and me about it before now. It’s not like you haven’t been with men before.”

“We’re not...it’s not like that!”

“Are you sure?”

Shige stares at him as he considers what this must look like to someone on the outside. The truth isn’t that exonerating considering the reason he’d invited Koyama to live with him in the first place. No wonder Massu’s still side-eyeing him.

“Positive,” he answers. “It’s easier to live together than to try and find time to hang out.”

That reasoning sounds weak even to him, but his dad doesn’t call him on it. A simple nod and the lid of the grill closes with a defined click. Before the silence can get too thick, his mom and Koyama return. They're laughing jovially about yet another baby-Shige story.

Shige notices how his mom teams up with Koyama and Koyama easily plays along. He wonders what they talked about in the kitchen, if Koyama has any idea that he’s been cast into the role of house spouse. He would probably think it’s hilarious.

To be honest, Shige should find it funny too. He doesn’t know why he’s so affected by it, even caught off-guard like this. They joke about being lovers all the time for work. Koyama’s own sister used to call their visits “dates.” It hasn’t bothered Shige before.

The four of them sit outside for awhile, enjoying the nice weather and catching up on family gossip. Then his mom says they should be getting back. They have plans for socially distanced bingo tonight. Shige mocks them good-naturedly for making the most of of their retirement.

They don’t even blink an eyelash, just turn toward Koyama and wish him luck putting up with their obstinate son.

“Remember what I told you,” his mom says conspiratorially to Koyama, who just nods and gives her a thumb’s up.

Shige waits until the car engine starts before turning on Koyama. He tears his mask off like he needs Koyama to see his lips move to feel the full weight of his words.

“What did she tell you?!”

“What the hell, relax,” Koyama replies with big eyes as he takes off his own mask. “She just made me promise to get you out of your office every so often. She’s worried you’re becoming a hermit.”

Shige rolls his eyes and points all around him. “I didn’t spend all this time and money on a patio area to never use it!”

“Shige, what’s wrong?”

Koyama’s gentle tone deflates Shige like a balloon. His aggravation flows right out of him while his brain struggles to find words for what he’s feeling. There’s no reason for him to be mad about what his dad said, not at all. Any other time, he would share it with Koyama and they’d have a good laugh, but Shige’s still not finding it very amusing.

“Tired,” he admits. “I don’t feel well. Rose already said I wasn’t sick, so I guess it’s all in my head.”

“I think you should take a nap. Or a bath with some of those calming oils. Do you want me to rub your back?”

Shige definitely does not want that. “No, I’ll be fine. Thanks, and sorry to worry you.”

“What are you even talking about? I didn’t move in so that you could still suffer alone. I’ll leave you be, but if you start to feel bad, come to me, okay? Promise.”

“I promise,” Shige says earnestly. “Sorry.”

“Stop that.” Koyama pokes his bottom lip, which Shige hadn’t realized he was pouting. “I actually think I’m going to take a nap too. All that barbeque made me sleepy.”

“Let’s nap in my room,” Shige says without thinking, then backtracks when he sees Koyama’s growing smile. “My bed is more comfortable, is all.”

“You don’t have to twist my arm. I have to stop myself from sneaking into your bed almost every night.”

That has Shige laughing out loud. “I probably wouldn’t even notice.”

“Is that permission?” Koyama asks, eyebrows waggling.

Shige freezes at the affirmative response that’s on the tip of his tongue. “ _No_. Only this time.”

“I’ll take it.”

He’s dragged upstairs into his own room. Koyama dives under the covers before Shige even has his belt unfastened. He’s reminded of Milk burrowing under the blankets in the tatami room. Now he's even more convinced that Koyama’s just a giant, human-shaped cat.

Speaking of Milk, she’s sitting in the doorway to Shige’s room. She looks positively heartbroken that she cannot join them. This room and Shige’s office are hardcoded no-cat areas. Rose has done something at the perimeter that Milk absolutely will not cross.

“I’m sorry, kitty,” Shige says gently as he gets into his bed on the side that does not contain a Koyama-sized burrito. “I’ll pet you later, okay?”

Milk does nothing and Shige frowns. Then his bed swallows him up and he forgets all about her until she starts meowing.

“Milk-chan~” Koyama sing-songs, his voice muffled by the covers over his head. “You can’t come in here~”

Milk’s cries increase in speed, loud enough to penetrate Shige’s pleasant bubble. “I don’t think you’re helping.”

“Rose-san, please close the door,” Koyama mumbles, and Milk screeches as she’s pushed out into the hallway. “Make a jingling noise downstairs until she chases after it.”

“Certainly, Koyama-san.”

The sudden silence is unsettling. Shige’s heart continues to ache knowing that Koyama’s pet is on the other side of the door crying her head off. She may as well be his pet too.

“I feel bad,” he thinks out loud.

“She’ll be fine,” Koyama assures him. “She sleeps without me all the time.”

Shige snorts. “She sleeps for like twenty hours a day.”

“Like I said.”

The curtains close on their own as Shige tries to relax, taking the cue from his brain. They don’t block out all the light, but it’s enough for Shige to forget that it’s the middle of the day. In no time, he succumbs to his mental exhaustion.

Then he remembers what his father had said and jerks awake. He groans in frustration as his anxiety takes over.

“Shige? What’s wrong? Talk to me.”

“It’s nothing,” Shige mumbles. “Sorry if I woke you.”

“I haven’t fallen asleep yet. I’m not actually tired anymore. I just want to lie in your bed.”

Shige laughs at that, then glances over to find Koyama’s worried eyes trained on him. “Don’t watch me sleep. It’s creepy.”

“You’re not sleeping.”

Shige sighs and tries to kick him, barely making a dent in the cocoon wrapped around Koyama. Koyama doesn’t even notice.

“Shige, will you let me hug you?”

A whine prefaces Shige’s actual reaction, which is more favorable than he expects. He may be able to hug Koyama whenever he wants, but that’s because Koyama is always open to it. Shige made it clear several years ago that he does not like unsolicited touch, so Koyama asks first. Usually.

“Yeah,” he finally gives in.

Almost immediately, half of Koyama’s weight is flopped on top of him. He grumbles while Koyama laughs, which Shige feels everywhere they make contact. It completely squashes what’s left of his protests. His body adjusts easily to Koyama’s arms wrapping around him.

“Thanks.”

“This is the easiest thing I can do for you.”

Shige’s already asleep before Koyama finishes talking. He's lured by the slow thump of Koyama’s heartbeat.

* 

Koyama never closes his door.

One of the first “house rules” they had made is that if the door is closed, the person inside doesn’t want to be bothered. Shige had insisted on it before he knew that Koyama wasn’t that keen on disturbing him when he was in his office. Even when Shige leaves his door open, Koyama will walk past without poking his head in.

Shige can’t recall a single time Koyama’s door has ever been closed in the two months they’ve lived together. Even while he’s sleeping, he keeps it open so Milk can get in and out. He might close it for a few minutes while he gets changed, but Shige hasn’t been upstairs when that happens. As far as he’s concerned, Koyama’s always up for company.

A couple times Shige considered waking him up after his late-night work sessions, just to be a brat. Koyama doesn’t _have_ to get up at ass o’clock in the morning every day, after all. That’s just naturally when his body wants to be awake. Shige’s confident that Koyama wouldn’t be the least bit annoyed if Shige bounced on his mattress at three A.M. for no reason other than wanting to empty some of the thoughts in his head before going to sleep.

Now it’s four in the afternoon and Koyama’s door is firmly shut. Shige wouldn’t have noticed if he didn’t want to tell Koyama about something that happened at filming. It’s not that important. Now that he knows Koyama wants privacy for the first time since he moved in, his mind races with why that might be.

“Rose, what’s Koyama doing?” he asks, a little frantic.

“Koyama-san wishes not to be disturbed,” Rose reports.

“Is he okay?”

“Yes. His heart rate and breathing are a little elevated, but nothing to be alarmed about.”

Shige’s eyebrows rise. While Koyama could be doing cardio with the door closed, the obvious option is more likely. Shige always figured that Koyama took care of _that_ in the early morning before Shige woke up. He guesses the wind blew the right way in the middle of the afternoon this time.

Shaking his head, Shige returns to his own room and changes out of his work clothes. While he’s looking for a shirt, he gets a chill that feels out of place in a climate-controlled room. It’s enough to remind him how long it’s been since he’s taken care of _himself_ that way.

As much as he doesn’t want to think about Koyama like that, he can’t deny that it’s getting him even hotter. Rose must be adjusting the air to his body temperature because it’s suddenly colder. His nipples harden without even being touched.

“Uh, _fine_ ,” Shige grumbles, arguing with himself like a true loser as he flops onto his bed. His hand is already pushing into his underwear. “Rose, you may want to tune me out for a while.”

“Understood, Kato-san. Please call me when you’d like me to return.”

It’s still weird that his house knows when he’s jerking off. He has to remind himself that Rose is just a computer, not a real person. She passes no judgment other than what he tells her to think. Hell, she practically tells him to rub one out when he gets especially uptight. He doesn’t doubt that she would dig around in his head and find the exact porn to get him off if he asked her to.

The scene behind his eyes seems to be good enough. It’s scarily easy to imagine Koyama curled up on his bed, fisting himself off. In Shige's mind, Koyama's eyes are locked on hentai anime flashing from the wall. Maybe there’s no visual stimulation and his eyes are firmly shut. His own imagination or maybe memories play behind them like Shige’s are doing.

Shige’s skin trembles as he starts to touch himself. He falls back onto his bed that adjusts to his weight like usual. Since he kicked Rose out of his head, he has to reach for his phone to control the bed. It’s worth it when a low vibration stimulates his entire body.

He kicks off his underwear to feel it on his balls and moans out loud, grateful he doesn’t have to worry about his volume. He couldn’t turn off the soundproofing even if he wanted to—it’s physical insulation inside of the walls. His mattress won’t move even with the most violent jerk. There’s no chance of anyone outside this room hearing him.

Koyama’s room would be the same, aside from the bed. Shige would only hear him if he was in the tatami room directly beneath. For all he knows, Koyama doesn’t move that much when he’s by himself. Shige wouldn’t know—even with all the hotel rooms they’ve shared, Koyama hasn’t been _that_ open with him. There was a time or two he had taken rather long showers. Back then, Shige didn’t pay attention to things like that.

Now, it’s all he can think about. His vision of Koyama writhing around on his bed transforms into Koyama in the bathtub. Koyama upsets the water with each twist of his hand that Shige emulates on himself.

He arches, hips thrusting in contrast with his own touch. This is hotter than usual, more of an enjoyable experience than just a means to an end. He actually slows down so he can appreciate the fantasy a little longer. Koyama’s skin is visible in the clear water that gets disturbed by quick, fast motions.

Then Shige recalls that low, gentle voice that Koyama uses to talk to his cat, and it’s all over. He comes with a jerk, his breath catching in his throat as he imagines Koyama doing the same.

It takes him a good minute to come down. His heart beats in his ears as he becomes very aware that he’d finished in his underwear. Making a face, he stumbles toward his dresser to change. He tosses the soiled garment into the hamper along with the rest of his work clothes.

Now’s as good of a time as any to bring his laundry downstairs. He notices Koyama’s door is still closed and admires that one’s stamina. Or more likely, he’d fallen asleep right afterward. He seems like the type to do that.

“Rose, is Koyama sleeping?”

“No. He is still indisposed. Shall I tell him to contact you when he’s available?”

“No, thank you.”

Shige dumps his dirty clothes into the laundry chute and finds that there’s a finished load ready to be hung up. He supposes he can take care of this for the first time since Koyama’s moved in. At the very least, his legs are getting a workout from going up and down the stairs so much.

Out on the balcony, Koyama’s door is closed with the curtains shut. Shige doesn’t know why they wouldn’t be, or why he even looked. Rose’s speakers don’t work outside, so he hums to himself as he pins their clothes to the line.

It’s a nice day and too early to start dinner, so he sits on the bench and looks out at the neighborhood. The back of their house faces the backs of other houses, but nobody else seems to be on their patios. He supposes it’s still too cold to just sit outside for no reason, though it doesn’t seem to bother him.

After several minutes, the door to Koyama’s room slides open. Koyama stumbles out, scratching the back of his head. He’s properly dressed, but his face is bright red.

“Oh, I didn’t know you were out here. Welcome home.”

“Thanks,” Shige replies.

Koyama leans against the raining and takes a deep breath, lifting his closed eyes to the sky. He looks as satisfied as Shige feels and Shige can’t stop himself from ragging on him.

“Not used to seeing your door closed,” he says pointedly. “Got a hot date in there?”

Koyama scoffs. “Not exactly.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s not like I can go out with anyone right now! So, we video chat.”

That has Shige’s eyebrows rising. “ _We_?”

“I’m kind of seeing someone.” Koyama actually looks sheepish, not meeting Shige’s eyes.

“Kind of?!” Shige repeats. “Is it one of those webcam services?”

“ _God_ no.” Koyama looks at him long enough to frown. “What kind of man do you think I am?”

Shige’s only a little relieved. Truth be told, he would rather Koyama be paying for live-action porn. Otherwise, he’s in a _relationship_.

“I’ve known her for a while,” Koyama starts, and Shige’s heart sinks. “Since before this year. We got to talking again and, well, we’re seeing what happens.”

“Over video chat,” Shige says slowly.

Koyama lets out a dirty chuckle. “Don’t knock it ‘til you’ve tried it.”

Suddenly, Shige doesn’t want fresh air anymore. He mumbles something he hopes comes out supportive and retreats into his room. He glances toward the messed up sheets on his bed where he’d just gotten off to Koyama getting off to someone else.

It hurts more than he thought it would, but he only allows himself a minute of self-pity. Then he sighs and heads down to the kitchen to start dinner.

“Are you actually mad at me for having a girlfriend?” Koyama asks incredulously over pasta.

“Of course not. Do what you want.”

Shige keeps his face straight while Koyama peers at him. Despite years of acting, his concentration wavers. Koyama bursts out laughing at whatever he thinks he sees.

“You’re jealous! Of course you are, you haven’t gotten any in years.”

“You’re not exactly getting any either!”

“Whatever you say, Shige.”

“I’m not jealous,” Shige mutters.

“Oh yeah? Then why are you all fucked up over something that doesn’t affect you at all?”

Koyama waits patiently while Shige wracks his mind for something other than the truth. He’s not even admitting that to himself.

“Fine, I’m jealous,” he lies.

Koyama’s teasing is worlds better than the alternative.

* 

Shige doesn’t say this very often, but Koyama’s right. His having a girlfriend has zero effect on Shige’s life. It’s not like Koyama talks about her all the time or interrupts their work to take her calls. Shige wouldn’t even know they were still together if it wasn’t for the periodic door closures.

Still, it bothers him on some subconscious level that simmers right under his skin. He’s not scared Koyama’s going to move out or anything; it’s much deeper than that. Like he feels insulted that Koyama would go to someone else for companionship. Shige is right here.

There it is. Shige _is_ jealous, but not for the reasons Koyama thinks he is. Koyama had used the word “girlfriend,” which means it’s much more than getting off together over video chat. He’s talking to her and sharing his thoughts and fears with her. He's comforted by her affection and inspired by whatever attracts him to her.

It doesn’t make any sense. It’s not like this is the first time Koyama has dated someone in the two decades they’ve known each other. Koyama’s had plenty of datefriends, and for that matter so has Shige. Shige’s never been jealous of them before.

Something about this one just doesn’t settle well with Shige. Not that he wants to be Koyama’s boyfriend. He’s not giving his parents the satisfaction of being right too. But he had wrongly assumed that living together would bring them closer. That it would help restore their connection that has faded as they’ve gotten older.

It feels very sad to grow apart from someone who sleeps on the other side of the wall.

Shige tells himself that he’ll feel better about it if he can meet her. So, they arrange a socially-distant meeting at a nearby park. She’s cute enough, tall and thankfully their age with kind eyes, but she’s not alone.

“She has kids?” Shige hisses to Koyama.

The woman had cheerfully introduced herself as Yuuko. Now, she hollers at a chubby-faced child to keep their distance from the others on the playground.

“So?” Koyama hisses back. “I like kids.”

Shige starts to protest that kids means an involved ex. Then Yuuko looks at him, and he knows right away that they were overheard.

“I’m not recruiting him to be their father,” she says firmly, and Shige feels a little guilty. “Their mother and I parted on good terms and we don’t need any help raising them. I’m genuinely interested in Koyama-kun as a man.”

Koyama preens at that, but Shige’s trying to wrap his mind around the language Yuuko had used. “You’re not their mother?”

“Same-sex relationships exist, Shige,” Koyama points out.

“I know that,” Shige grumbles.

“That’s not entirely accurate,” Yuuko says, then turns to Koyama. “You didn’t tell him?”

“It’s not my business to tell.”

The corners of Yuuko’s eyes crinkle as she faces Shige, her smile shining even through her mask. “I’m trans. I’m divorced because my ex-wife _isn’t_ into women.”

“Oh.”

Shige doesn’t know what else to say. He’s interviewed plenty of transgender people for work before. But none of them were dating Koyama—that he knew of, anyway.

“I’m flattered that I pass well enough to confuse you,” Yuuko goes on. “I just started transitioning a few years ago. It’s been so freeing.”

Shige finally finds his voice. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you! I thought that dating would be a nightmare, especially with all the restrictions now. Then Koyama-kun came out of nowhere and confessed to me. Now, I’m the happiest girl in the world!”

Koyama has the decency to look embarrassed, but Shige knows that he’s loving the attention. Yuuko tells Shige all about her kids and her work as a hospital phlebotomist. Aside from the eight-year-old on the playground, she also has a thirteen-year-old at home. A _teenager_.

The more Shige learns, the more he hates her. Not because she’s trans—he’s not that narrow-minded—but because she’s so perfect for Koyama. She likes anime and cats and most of the things Koyama loves. She cooks too, though Koyama hasn’t had the opportunity to taste test yet.

It’s times like these that he’s grateful for the normalization of face masks. He doesn’t have to try as hard to look happy. He digs into his working repertoire of asking thoughtful questions until she has to go. She has work tonight.

“It was nice to meet you,” she says earnestly to Shige. “I hope we can do this again.”

“Me too,” Shige lies.

Yuuko collects her child and walks away, but Koyama doesn’t move. Shige’s fine with staying here for a while longer. It’s a nice day.

“What’s your problem, Shige?”

“I don’t have a problem.”

Koyama glares at Shige through his sunglasses, and Shige gives up trying to front. He may be able to fool people he just met, but not Koyama.

“I don’t like her,” he finally says.

“Why?” Koyama demands. “Because she’s trans?”

“Of course not! I’ve been an advocate for the LGBTQ community for years now!”

“Advocating and accepting are not the same thing,” Koyama tells him. “Weren’t you the one who told me that?”

“Probably.” Shige exhales. “I just didn’t know you were okay with dating someone like that.”

“’Someone like that’?”

“You know what I mean!”

“No, I don’t. You already know that I date women, and she’s a woman.”

“Yes, but...” Shige trails off as the right words don’t come. At least, the right words that aren’t completely rude. “Never mind.”

“Just ask what you want to ask.”

Koyama’s eyes are challenging. If Shige didn’t know any better, he would think Koyama was about to fight him right here in the park.

Shige sighs. “Has she had the surgery?”

“That’s not your business.”

“I know that! You told me to ask!”

Koyama inhales very, very slowly. “Between you and me, no she has not. She doesn’t want it.”

“So her gender marker still says that she’s male.”

“Until the law changes, yes.”

Shige frowns even though Koyama can’t see it. “If this gets out, it’ll be as much of a scandal as if you were dating a man.”

“I know that, Shige. I don’t care.”

Koyama’s almost shaking now, and it’s not cold at all. There’s a lot more Shige wants to say, but now is probably not the best time. Instead, he digs for every ounce of his humility and reaches for Koyama’s hand.

“I don’t like her because she’s taking you away from me.”

There’s a beat of silence, then Koyama bursts out laughing. Shige’s not as hurt as he should be, mostly because Koyama squeezes his hand. It’s the most physical contact they’ve had since the night Koyama spooned him.

“I’m serious!” Shige exclaims. “Don’t make fun of me when I’m telling you my real feelings!”

Koyama looks like he’s losing a battle with himself to stop laughing. It takes him a few seconds to calm down enough to speak, and even then Shige knows that his mask is hiding a big grin.

“Oh, Shige. I thought you were actually being an asshole.”

“I’m not an asshole!”

“I know you’re not. I’m sorry.”

“If you were really sorry, you’d stop laughing.”

Koyama hides his face in his free arm until his shoulders stop shaking. The next time he looks at Shige, the tops of his cheeks are bright red.

“Shige, I want you to listen to me very carefully,” Koyama says slowly, and Shige just nods. “There is no one in this entire world who can take me away from you. You are stuck with me until they put me in the ground, and even then I will haunt you until you die too. Understand?”

Shige scoffs. “Is that supposed to comfort me?”

“My eternal devotion isn’t comforting?”

Koyama’s teasing voice isn’t nearly as annoying as it was before. Shige has to stop himself from leaning over to lay his head on Koyama’s shoulder, and not just because they’re in public.

“I’ll try to like her,” he mumbles.

“That’s all I can ask of you.”

He lets go of Koyama’s hand and stands up. “It’s nice to be outside.”

“Yeah.”

The park is within walking distance from their house, so they start the trek back. When they return, Rose scans them both. Shige notices the very first line of their health reports that he hasn’t looked twice at before.

“Rose, is there any way you can omit the ‘sex’ field moving forward?” he asks. “Or you can ask the person their preferred gender and display it that way.”

“Certainly, Kato-san,” Rose replies. “Has there been an update on human biology since I was programmed?”

“Sort of. Humans are capable of changing their gender anytime throughout their lives. It doesn’t have to match the hormones produced by their bodies. Those who do change their gender don’t usually like being reminded of their assigned sex at birth. I’d like them to be respected in my home.”

“Understood. I will research human sex and gender identity to become better informed.”

“Thank you, Rose.”

When he turns to go down the hallway, Koyama’s staring at him incredulously.

“What?”

“You did that for Yuuko-chan.”

“Not _just_ her. I actually don’t feel good about the smart technology being able to ‘out’ people this way. I might write the manufacturer about it.”

Now that Koyama’s mask is gone, Shige can see his smile in full bloom. The corners of his eyes are liquidy, which Shige doesn’t find one bit surprising.

“You’re such a good person, Shige. I’m sorry I accused you of being a transphobe.”

“I’m the only reason you even know what a transphobe is!”

Koyama laughs. “I definitely wouldn’t be as comfortable dating Yuuko-chan if it wasn’t for your influence. So, thank you.”

He wraps his arms around Shige’s neck, and Shige slowly hugs him back. It takes him a few seconds to catch up with his thoughts. When he does, he’s amazed that it’s taken them this long to have this conversation.

“Koyama, have you ever thought about being with me?”

“I’m with you right now.”

Shige shoves him a little, laughing at his fake affronted face. “Like how you’re with her.”

“Why are you asking me this?”

“Well, I know that Yuuko-sn is a woman, and obviously you do too, but anyone else who found out wouldn’t think so. You dating her is pretty much the same as you dating _me_ as far as society is concerned.”

“You’re not a cute girl though.”

Shige gasps, pretending to be offended. “Hey!”

“You’re a cute _boy_ ,” Koyama adds, poking Shige in the cheek as he walks by, then disappears into the kitchen.

He doesn’t say anything else, so Shige follows him and finds him making tea like they were done talking.

“Answer the question, Keiichiro!”

“Oh, Shige, of course I’ve thought about it.”

Koyama gives him such a fond look that he stops in his tracks, his heart beating a little faster than before.

“It would be so easy, right?” Koyama asks.

“What would?”

“Being with you.”

They stare at each other. Shige suddenly feels like the one put on the spot instead of Koyama.

“I guess...”

“It just wasn’t written in the stars for us.”

There’s an air of finality in his voice, like their fate had already been decided and there was no way of changing it. It makes so little sense that Shige can’t even begin to construct an argument.

Naturally, Koyama takes this as agreement.

“It’s better this way, isn’t it? I have Yuuko-chan, and you have all your jobs and hobbies. We’re both happy.”

_Are we, though?_

Shige just nods and retreats to his office. He has some unhealthy distracting to do.

* 

Shige’s in love with Koyama.

_Shige_ is in _love_ with _Koyama_.

The wall screen in the bathroom flashes on like Shige had given it an order, and maybe he had. A website he hasn’t seen before loads up, something called Archive of Our Own that seems to be a database of some kind.

He gets as far as reading “Works tagged: Kato Shigeaki/Koyama Keiichiro” before willing it away with his mind.

“Very funny, Rose.”

“This was the only result I found in response to the thought that’s been going through your mind for the past hour.”

“I don’t know if it’s better or worse that you’re serious.”

She doesn’t respond, and it’s just as well. He’d thought a nice, relaxing bath with the calming oils would help him work out his feelings. But he keeps coming to the same conclusion.

He’s in love with Koyama.

It’s simple, really. Shige is jealous of Yuuko because he wants to _be_ her. He wants to be the one Koyama talks to about his deepest thoughts and desires. Even what happens behind closed doors. They wouldn’t have to limit it to video chats either.

Suddenly, Shige is faced with the same dilemma as almost every person in a romantic comedy. He always criticizes them for keeping their feelings to themselves and not communicating, and here he is doing the same thing. It’s different when he’s not looking at it from an outside point of view, it seems.

He tries to think objectively and doesn’t get very far. His parents already think they’re together. Massu clearly disapproved of Koyama moving in. If Shige was watching the movie of his life right now, he’d probably be yelling at himself to _talk_ to Koyama already. Instead of wallowing in the bathtub like a coward.

“Kato-san, Koyama-san is requesting access to the bathroom.”

Shige jerks out of his thoughts so hard that he upsets the water. “What did you tell him?!”

“I didn’t tell him anything. He came on his own.”

“Let him in then.”

The frantic part of him thinks it might be an emergency, but when Koyama pops his head in, he looks sheepish.

“Mind if I grab a shower? You’ve been in here for a long time and Yuuko’s supposed to call in twenty minutes.”

“I can get out—”

“No, you enjoy your bath. I’ll be quick.”

“Okay.”

Shige sinks down into the bathwater while Koyama strips and gets into the shower stall. The walls are frosted, but that makes Koyama’s lean silhouette more enticing to look at. Shige stares shamelessly as Koyama washes his hair and body, unaware of his audience.

By the time the water turns off, Shige’s breathing heavily. He’s already warm from the bath and his face is burning, though it’s not only from shame. Every nerve in his body wants to reach out and touch Koyama. To feel that wet skin under his fingers and see what happens. Maybe Koyama would shiver.

What actually happens is that Shige stays right where he is while Koyama grabs a towel and dries off. He doesn’t even look in Shige’s direction, and why would he? Shige’s having a bath. Any other time, he’d be annoyed at getting interrupted like this.

His window of opportunity is closing as Koyama moves the towel up to his hair. This also leaves his naked body on display for Shige’s disrespectful eyes. He completely forgets about his predicament until Koyama opens the door to leave.

“I’m in love with you.”

Koyama pauses, the towel wrapped around his head like a turban. It covers his ears, but he doesn’t even pretend not to hear it. Slowly, he turns around, his eyes much wider than usual. He fixes Shige with an expression that’s somewhere between disbelief and shock.

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“I did, but...”

Koyama trails off as they stare at each other, both naked and varying degrees of wet. Shige may be fully submerged, but the oils are clear and Koyama could see everything if he wanted to. Surprisingly—or maybe not—Shige doesn’t care.

Finally, Koyama sighs with what looks like his whole chest and eyes the giant tub.

“Scoot over.”

Shige does as he’s told and Koyama sits next to him, unwrapping his hair and folding the towel on the edge of the tub. He sinks into the water up to his neck, breathing in the aroma like he needs it to calm down, and maybe he does.

“Rose-san, please text Yuuko-chan and tell her the following: ‘Something came up and I need to reschedule. I’m sorry. I’ll contact you later.’ End.”

“Certainly, Koyama-san.”

Shige frowns. “You don’t have to cancel—”

“How do you expect me to go on a date with someone else after what you just said to me?!”

Koyama’s voice echoes throughout the tiled room. Shige decides not to point out that he’s actually not _going_ anywhere. He almost looks mad, except he’s directing his eyes downward. Like it’s the water’s fault that his world was so suddenly turned upside-down.

“Why do you have to say that _now_?”

He speaks so quietly that Shige barely hears him. Shige starts to unpack that question until he realizes it’s pretty straightforward. Something else people do in romcoms that annoys him is overanalyze simple words.

“I felt it, so I said it,” he answers. Simple.

Apparently, that is not what Koyama wanted to hear. He hangs his head and sighs again, hugging his knees to his chest under the warm water.

“What do you want from me?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, we already work together, and now we live together. What’s going to change?”

Shige thinks about that. “What you have with Yuuko-san, I want that. I want the dates and the affection.”

“Even what we do when I have my door closed?”

“Even that.”

Koyama’s breath hitches and he looks like he might actually cry. His eyes are dry for the time being, but his shoulders are shaking a little. He looks more upset than Shige would care for, especially since he’s at fault.

“I’m sorry,” Shige says, and Koyama shakes his head. “Not for my feelings, but for springing it on you like this. My timing could have been better.”

That has Koyama laughing, almost deliriously as he really does start to cry. “It’s not the timing at all! You just _confessed_ to me!”

“I know that!”

Koyama cups his hands to fill them with bathwater and brings them up to his face. His eyes are still glistening as they look at Shige for the first time since he got into the tub.

“Do you even know how long I’ve been waiting for this moment? I may have given up on you a long time ago, but that didn’t stop me from hoping. Now that it’s happened, I don’t know what to do.”

“What do you mean, you had given up on me?”

Koyama’s expression softens. His smile is so warm that Shige feels it more strongly than the water.

“Shige, I’ve always been in love with you. There’s no way you didn’t already know that.”

“I didn’t...I mean, I know we joke around for work, but—”

“It wasn’t joking to me. Of course, I didn’t think the feeling was mutual, but it still felt good to pretend. No matter how lonely I was, joking around with you made it better.”

As nice as that is to hear, Shige’s still hung up on _always_. “How long have you felt that way about me?”

“Who knows? I don’t remember what it feels like _not_ to love you like that. It’s been so long that it’s become a staple of my being.”

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

Koyama scoffs. “You have told anyone who will listen many times over the years in no uncertain terms that we aren’t really like that.”

“I did say that,” Shige admits. “To be honest, I’m not sure what changed. I bought this house and all I wanted was to share it with you. You started dating Yuuko-san and I realized I wanted you to date _me_.”

“’Date’,” Koyama repeats. “Dating is what people who don't know each other do.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Shige mutters. “I’m not very good at it.”

“You’re not good at it because you don’t want another person in your life like that. Up until now, at least. What makes me so different?”

Shige exhales slowly. “ _Everything_.”

The grin that spreads on Koyama’s face leaves no doubt in Shige’s mind how much he likes that answer. He closes his eyes briefly, looking to all the world that he’s just enjoying a shared bath. Then his shoulders start shaking in silent laughter.

“I feel like I’m dreaming,” he finally says.

“Do you often dream of bathing with me?” Shige teases.

“Sometimes,” Koyama answers, and Shige’s jeering smile fades into a real one. “Not usually when I’m dating someone though. That’s disrespectful.”

“I won’t let you cheat on her,” Shige says seriously. “If we’re going to do this, you have to break up with her.”

“Obviously. That won’t be hard, since she already knows how I feel about you.”

Shige’s eyebrows shoot up into his hairline. “She does?”

“Well, she knows there’s someone with whom I have an unrequited love. She doesn’t know it’s _you_ , but she’ll probably figure it out. She’s not the type to go running to the tabloids though.”

The thought of public scrutiny has Shige groaning. Their fans reacted well to the news that they were living together. But actually having a relationship is completely different. Not to mention their jobs require them to be available, _straight_ idols.

“Is it bad that I don’t want to tell anyone?” Shige asks. “I don’t want to deal with the backlash.”

“If you think I’m not calling my mother the minute we get out of this tub, you don’t know me at all,” Koyama says. Shige laughs. “I’m fine with keeping it a secret from anyone else. It’s not their business.”

“What about Massu?” Shige asks. “It feels dishonest to keep something like this from the only other member of the group.”

“Massu absolutely does not want to know.”

“How can you say that so certainly?”

“Because he told me several years ago.” Koyama smiles at whatever memory he’s revisiting. “He said, and I quote, ‘If Shige ever returns your feelings, don’t tell me about it.’”

“Even _Massu_ knew you had feelings for me?!”

“Of course he did. Tegoshi too. His last message to me wished us eternal happiness in the event you ever pulled your head out of your ass and accepted the fact that we’re soulmates. Also a direct quote.”

“Well, as long as we have _that_ guy’s blessing.”

They both laugh at that. Shige wants nothing more than to reach the short distance between them and grab onto Koyama’s hand. But it feels wrong now that they’re discussing escalating things between them. As of right now, Koyama still has a girlfriend.

“So, we’re going to do this then?”

His voice comes out shakier than he’d like. It’s probably the right amount of vulnerability to show Koyama how serious he is. He wouldn’t be surprised if Koyama doesn’t entirely believe him—hell, he barely believes _himself_. He’d told Koyama so soon that he didn’t have any time to let it sink in.

He’s in _love_ with Koyama, who is in love with _him_ too.

“Everything inside me wants to scream yes.”

He’s going to be in a _relationship_ with Koyama.

“I need you to promise me that if it doesn’t work out, we’ll go back to the way it was before.”

Shige frowns. “Already planning for contingencies?”

“Of course not!” Koyama exclaims. “But neither you nor I can predict the future, right? You may not feel the same one day, and that’s okay. As long as I can have you in my life some way, I’m happy.”

“Why is it _me_ whose feelings might change?”

“Because you’ve had like five minutes to get used to them. I’ve had mine for over fifteen years.”

Shige blinks as he remembers back to when they were much younger. “That long?!”

“Who knows?” Koyama shrugs. “I can’t pinpoint the first moment I recognized it for what it was. Looking back on it now, I’ve always wanted to be closer to you.”

That admission weighs heavy on Shige’s heart, and he takes a few seconds to let it marinate.

“I promise that we’ll always be friends, at the very least,” he finally says, and Koyama gives him a fond smile.

“Thank you. I’m gonna get out now. I want to catch Yuuko before she goes to work.”

Shige cringes. “Are you sure it’s a good idea to break up with her before she sticks people with needles?”

“Probably not, but it’s unfair to make her wait, right?” Koyama heaves himself out of the tub with what looks like a lot of reluctance and dries off again. “Besides, I know you won’t touch me until I tell her, and I definitely don’t want to wait any longer for that.”

The concept of actually touching Koyama leaves Shige speechless as Koyama walks away. Somehow, he doesn't think Koyama is referring to only holding hands.

He should get out too. He’s as relaxed as he’s going to get and his skin is starting to prune. Rose would heat the tub for him all day if he wanted her to, but he’s been in here long enough.

“Rose, did you know Koyama was in love with me?”

“Yes, I did,” Rose answers.

Shige pauses as he starts to stand up. “Did he tell you that?”

“What Koyama-san and I discuss is confidential, Kato-san.”

“Of course it is.”

Shige imagines Koyama talking to Rose like she were any other treasured person. Like his mother or sister. For all his big talk about not trusting this kind of technology, he’s sure confiding in it.

Shige dries off, fastens his robe, and returns to his room to get dressed. Koyama’s room is empty, but his balcony door is open. Shige hears him speaking in a gentle voice while hanging up laundry.

A ball of excitement wells up inside him when Koyama returns to his room. It takes him a few seconds to notice Shige lingering in the hallway, then he abruptly stops. He grins as he pulls out his earbuds.

“It’s handled,” he says. “I’m yours.”

*

A sense of peace seems to wash over Shige, like a blanket of snow coating all his worries and concerns. They’re still there, of course, but he isn’t as focused on them as when they’re visible. Not only has his mood improved, his anxieties are almost nonexistent.

It’s _relief_. Shige hadn’t known how stressed he was about being with Koyama until it was gone. Now, all that’s left is happiness, hope, and a healthy dose of longing for someone who wants to be with him as much.

The first thing Koyama does is take Shige into his arms and hug him tightly. Shige hugs back, pressing his face into Koyama’s shoulder at the right angle.

“I guess it’s written in the stars for us after all,” he mutters into Koyama’s T-shirt.

Koyama chuckles a little. “You’re unexpectedly romantic.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me like this.”

“I look forward to learning it all.”

Koyama loosens his grip but doesn’t pull away. His hands rub Shige’s upper back and it feels nice. It seems that this new relationship tranquility doesn’t apply to shoulder tension.

“You’re moaning,” Koyama points out.

“That feels good.”

“Want a massage?”

“ _Yes_.”

Koyama laughs as he drags Shige into Shige’s room and shoves him onto his own bed. Shige lands face down, grabbing a pillow to wedge under his head as Koyama straddles his backside.

“Can I go under your shirt?”

“Just take it off.”

They should have done this before Shige was weighed down by Koyama’s entire weight. It takes a team effort, but they manage to pull the garment over Shige’s head. It’s worth it when Koyama’s fingers press directly into his skin. They start at the small of his back and slide up either side of his spine.

“Let me know if I’m doing it too hard.”

“I like it hard.”

Koyama scoffs at that, and Shige laughs when he realizes how that had come out. He’s too comfortable to be embarrassed, his bed quickly adjusting to cool him down from the added heat.

“Should we talk about that?” Koyama asks, his voice soft and gentle. “Sex, I mean.”

“We should talk about whatever either of us wants to talk about,” Shige answers firmly. “I don’t want us to start holding back because of some irrational fear that we’re gonna upset each other.”

He’s grumbling more than someone who’s getting massaged from both sides should be. It’s important to him that they both speak their minds. He didn’t spend twenty years listening to Koyama’s unfiltered thoughts only to have him start censoring them.

“That’s good to know, but I was actually seeking your _consent_. Even just talking about sex requires it, right?”

Shige smiles into his pillow. “Yeah, sorry. I don’t want you to think you need permission to talk to me about whatever’s on your mind.”

“When have I _ever_ given you that impression?” Koyama asks incredulously.

“You haven’t. But people change after they get into a relationship.”

“Not me. At least, I don’t think so. You’ll have to let me know if you notice anything different.”

“I will. Now let’s talk about sex.”

Koyama laughs. “It feels like an elephant in the room with us, since that’s pretty much the only thing we haven’t done together.”

“I get it. It’s scary to think about being with a new person like that, and even more when it’s someone who’s already so important.”

“Yeah, exactly.”

Koyama digs his thumbs into Shige’s shoulder blades like he’s working out his own frustration too. Maybe he is.

“So...” Koyama draws out. “Top or bottom?”

“Do I have to choose?” is Shige’s answer.

“Good answer. I usually like to bottom, but I don’t mind topping every now and then if you want it.”

“How considerate of you to give me your dick.”

Koyama pinches the fleshy part of Shige’s side and Shige yelps. “I will have you know I am a very considerate lover!”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less,” Shige replies. “But if you’re trying to get me into bed, you might want to scale back on the abuse. I’m not into pain.”

“I already got you into bed,” Koyama points out. “I'm wondering if it’s bad to do it so soon.”

“Soon? Haven’t you wanted me for fifteen years or more?”

“Yes, but you’ve wanted me for much shorter than that, and we only made it official an hour ago. So, it might be better to wait.”

“Okay, then let’s wait.”

“But isn’t there also a benefit to getting the awkward first time out of the way? Also, if we wait, we’ll just be thinking about it until we actually do it.”

Koyama sounds like he’s working it out for himself. It's not much different than when he normally has a decision to make. Shige doesn’t think sex should need this much forethought, but he supposes it does to Koyama.

“Either way is fine with me,” he says. “Just let me know when you want it.”

“Is it that simple?”

“Yes! It’s just sex. You want me, I want you, and we’re in an exclusive relationship, right? So it’s okay to do it whenever we feel like it—schedules permitting.”

Koyama leans down to speak into the back of his neck. “You want me?”

A chill surges down Shige’s spine that makes him wish he’d kept his shirt on. He ends up with warmth on both sides as Koyama settles on Shige’s back.

“ _Now_ I do.”

Koyama laughs as he flops to the side, curling up against Shige while continuing to rub his back. “All this talk about sex and we haven’t even kissed yet.”

“You started it.”

“I did.”

He’s on the side not facing Shige, so Shige makes the effort to flip his head to the other side. He finds himself looking into Koyama’s doting eyes. Rolling all the way onto his side, he lifts a heavy arm to trace Koyama’s cheek. He smiles when Koyama tilts his head into the touch.

“Just like your cat,” Shige teases.

“Meow~” Koyama says, grinning as he moves closer. “If you pet me right, I purr too.”

“Oh?”

Shige’s inquiry goes unanswered, at least with words. He leans forward at the same time Koyama does, and sparks fly when their lips touch. The mere act seems to ignite the fire that’s been simmering for days, weeks, maybe months.

It’s not only arousal. That part is familiar, the urge to press closer to Koyama and touch him more intimately. There’s also a new feeling simmering underneath his skin. He cherishes Koyama with his whole heart, very aware that this is an actual person in his arms and not only a warm body. Someone he wants to treasure and protect as well as please.

“I love you,” he whispers, because he feels it in every fibre of his being.

Koyama grins into their kiss. “I love you too. So much.”

“I’m so happy we’re together now.”

“Me too. You have no idea.”

Shige lowers his arm to Koyama’s waist and pulls him closer, kissing him so soulfully that he loses his mind a little. Koyama gives back as much as he gets, his fingers sliding up into Shige’s wild hair that’s not quite dry from the bath.

“I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” Koyama says against his lips. “Touch your hair, I mean. Is that weird? It looks so thick and soft...I’ve fantasized many times about sinking my fingers into it as we kiss, just like we’re doing now...”

“Not weird,” Shige assures him, rubbing their noses together until Koyama smiles. “It feels nice. Don’t pull it too hard though.”

“Not into pain,” Koyama recalls. “Got it. Gentle touching. Shige is precious.”

“Touching more would be good,” Shige says pointedly, and Koyama’s chuckle vibrates his lips.

“Noted.”

The next thing Shige knows, he’s on his back, Koyama hovering over him with both legs on one side. It would be easy for him to straddle Shige right now, but he seems to be keeping his distance for the time being. Like he’s getting Shige used to his touch little by little.

All that does is make Shige want it more. Koyama can use both hands now, one firmly locked in Shige’s hair while the other trails down his bare chest. He earns a series of sharp shudders when he finds particularly sensitive spots.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” Koyama murmurs in this low, airy voice that Shige feels in his bones. “My beautiful, precious Shige reacts so nicely to my touch.”

“It feels good,” Shige replies. His tone comes out a little defensive, but Koyama chuckles again. “I like your words too. I’m not used to being complimented so much simply for existing.”

“Good, because I don’t think I can turn it off,” Koyama says. “If you don’t already have a praise kink, you will by the time I’m done with you.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.”

In response, Koyama returns to his mouth. He stretches out alongside Shige so that Shige can feel almost all of that lean body against his own. Shige holds him with both arms, his hands slipping up the back of Koyama’s T-shirt that he wants off already.

He must be tugging pointedly because Koyama leans back long enough to pull it over his head. He dives back into their kiss before Shige can miss him. The expanse of warm, uninhibited skin at his leisure is overwhelming. It pulls him under even more until he’s seeking out Koyama’s tongue, deepening their kiss.

Koyama moans, which Shige feels more than hears. Shige trembles as the hand on his chest roams down to his abdomen. He’s already so turned on that the blatant teasing has him hardening all the way. His hips rock desperately for friction.

There’s no way Koyama doesn’t know what he’s doing. Especially when Shige whines at the only contact being his loose shorts. More than anything, he wants Koyama to touch him right now. So much that he actually covers Koyama’s hand with his own and urges it downward.

Koyama’s laugh tickles his tongue. He allows Shige to guide him under both waistbands and wrap his fingers around the hard flesh within. His mouth muffles Shige’s loud moan as he takes over and squeezes him. He rubs his thumb along the length before slowly moving up and down.

“Is this what you want?” Koyama asks, his voice sinful as he kisses his way down Shige’s jaw to his neck. “I’ve imagined you making noises like this for so long too. Let me hear them now.”

He doesn’t have to ask twice. Gasps and moans spill from Shige’s lips as Koyama strokes him firmly. His pace is far too gradual to provide much relief. Both of Shige’s hands twitch for something to touch. They knead the muscles of Koyama’s back before lowering to the cheeks of his ass.

“Mm,” Koyama says softly, letting out a gasp of his own when Shige squeezes. “You’re making me want you inside me.”

Shige’s hips snap on their own at the thought, accompanied by a low groan that vibrates his entire body. “I’ll gladly do that for you.”

“Touch me first,” Koyama says, pressing the words into Shige’s neck. “I like to come before I get penetrated.”

Shige makes a pleased noise in the back of his throat. “I love that you tell me what you want.”

“How else are you supposed to know?”

That’s a good question. It's one that goes unanswered as Shige brings his left hand around to the front of Koyama’s shorts and dips inside. Koyama’s cock is hard and leaking, jumping into his hand as he thumbs the head.

“Ah, Shige. That feels good.”

“Like this?”

Shige speeds up a little and flicks his wrist. He's touching Koyama like he usually touches himself, and Koyama nods next to his head. Little moans escape with each of his breaths and it has Shige rocking up into his own stimulation. It's only gotten a little faster from Koyama’s arousal.

He turns his head to find Koyama’s skin, mouthing along his neck up to his ear. Koyama moans out loud when Shige tugs on the lobe with his teeth. He’s thrusting into Shige’s hand in contrast to Shige’s actions. His cock twitches in a way that Shige wants to feel on his tongue.

“I wanna go down on you.”

“ _Fuck_ , really?”

“Yeah. Can I?”

“By all means, go ahead.”

Shige has to pull out of Koyama’s reach as he switches their positions. He lays Koyama down onto his back and takes in his appearance for the first time. He’s flushed down to his chest, lips wet and parted with very hooded eyes. He looks so fucking hot like this that Shige wants to please him even more. He kisses him briefly on the mouth before making his way down.

“Mm, Shige,” Koyama calls out, his breath hitching when Shige licks a nipple. “Oh, I like that.”

That much is obvious from the way his whole body jerks. Shige appreciates the communication anyway. He takes his time flicking the hardening bud with his tongue before moving to the other one. He leaves them wet to continue being stimulated. The chilly air in the room is triggered by both of their body temperatures.

“ _Shige_...”

Shige doesn’t mind hearing his name in that impatient tone one bit. Nor the way Koyama’s abdomen concaves under his lips. The tip of Koyama’s cock bumps his chin and Koyama cries out, his hips moving on their own to feel as much as he can.

“What?” Shige replies facetiously, and dips his tongue into Koyama’s navel. “What do you want?”

“Your _mouth_ ,” Koyama whines. “I’ve thought about this a lot too. If you can fit your fist in there, I bet you can take my whole length.”

Shige shudders at Koyama’s tone, which somehow matches the filthy words pouring out of his mouth. “We’ll see,” he evades.

“You can do it. I know you can.”

It’s the same kind of encouragement he gets during rehearsal, only on a much dirtier level. The effect is more or less the same. Shige feels compelled to work hard to master the art of pleasing Koyama. Like it were a particularly complicated dance move.

He closes the distance and takes the head past his lips. He revels in the beautiful noise Koyama makes. His mouth moves on its own, sucking and licking as he slowly bobs up and down, the girth stretching his lips.

“Oh my god, Shige. Feels so good, please don’t stop.”

Shige almost laughs. There’s no chance in hell he’s stopping. Even if Koyama suddenly wanted him to, he’d have to pry Shige’s mouth off of him first. Shige has a bit of an oral fixation like this. The sucking motion itself is enjoyable as well as all the other elements.

One of them quickly becomes Koyama’s praise. He’s not even speaking coherently. It's just a mixture of Shige’s name and “so good” that has Shige feeling like the world’s best lover. This praise kink thing is definitely working for him.

It’s been a while since Shige’s done this, his neck and jaw starting to protest long before he’s ready. Koyama’s thrashing and moaning with both hands in Shige’s hair, which Shige takes to mean that he’s close. So he powers through the last couple minutes and brings his hand up to gently rub Koyama’s balls.

“Ah, Shige, I’m gonna come...”

Shige braces himself, lifting up enough to take the hot streams on his tongue. Koyama chases it down with shrill cry of Shige’s name and tugs on his hair, urging him up. Now soft, Koyama’s cock falls out of Shige’s mouth with a defined pop as Koyama guides him all the way back up his torso.

If Shige thought Koyama looked hot before, it’s nothing compared to right after he comes. Chest heaving, his flush darker and more spread out, what Shige can see of his eyes even more doting. Just looking at him has Shige’s arousal soaring, very aware that he hasn’t had much relief thus far.

“You are fucking amazing at that,” Koyama tells him, and Shige preens as Koyama strokes his hair with a shaky hand. “Please feel free to suck me off any time.”

“I want you,” Shige says clearly, his hand drifting down to trace the inside of Koyama’s thigh. “Can I start preparing you, or do you need a minute to recover?”

“I’m good,” Koyama answers. “Orgasms actually make it easier to stretch, which is why I like to come first. Also, I like to come.”

Shige laughs. “Who doesn’t?”

“Some people...maybe. I don’t know everyone’s lives.”

Koyama makes a haughty face, and it looks so cute that Shige kisses it right off his face. They disrobe the rest of the way and he settles on top of Koyama, between the thighs that spread for him. It’s then that he realizes the closest thing to lubrication he has is Vaseline in the medicine cabinet all the way down the hall.

“I don’t suppose you have any lube in your pants?” Shige mutters.

“I do not,” Koyama replies, frowning as he catches on. “Too bad Rose-san can’t get us some.”

“Shall I add to the grocery list, Koyama-san?” Rose asks, startling Shige so much that he jerks.

“No, thank you,” Koyama calls out, then laughs as he wraps his arms around Shige’s waist. “I forgot that saying her name calls her.”

Shige pushes his face into Koyama’s shoulder and groans. “I do not want to go to the store right now.”

“I have some in my room,” Koyama tells him. “I needed it for my video dates.”

Now Shige’s groaning for a different reason. He's imagining Koyama fingering himself on webcam. “She wanted to see that?!”

“Yes?” Koyama gives him a bewildered look. “Just because she’s a girl doesn’t mean she can’t top me, you know.”

“ _Fuck_ , Koyama, go get your fucking lube already.”

Koyama presses a kiss to Shige’s nose and Shige leans up enough for him to scoot out from under him. Then he leans down to whisper in Shige’s ear.

“Call me Kei-chan.”

“ _Go, Keiichiro_.”

“That works too.”

Koyama flits off butt naked and returns about twenty seconds later. He presents Shige with a tube that Shige immediately snatches and opens.

They return to their previous position without delay. Only this time, Koyama lifts his knees and wraps his legs around Shige’s back. Shige kisses him deeply as he works him open. He drinks down all the little mewls while Koyama breathes quickly through his nose.

Shige finds what he’s looking for right away. He smirks proudly at the way Koyama tears his mouth away to throw his head back and moan. His body undulates on its own and Shige growls into Koyama’s neck when his cock bumps Koyama’s belly.

Two fingers turns into three and Koyama’s moaning out loud. His volume gradually increases and Shige’s very glad they aren’t doing this in his old apartment. As it is, he spares a thought to make sure the windows are closed in case the sound carries over to the next property.

“Shige, _please_.”

“Please what?”

“ _Fuck me_.”

Carefully, Shige pulls out his fingers and replaces them with his cock. He exhales harshly as he eases his way inside. Koyama tenses a little and Shige stops long enough to rub both of his thighs. He presses kisses to Koyama's collarbone until he relaxes.

“You feel so good,” Shige says, his voice coming out about an octave deeper than usual. “Let me know when I can move.”

“You can move. Go as hard as you want—I like it rough.”

Shige groans again as he starts to thrust, slow and shallow at first. Gradually, he works his way up to fast and deep. He lets out his own uncontrollable noises as he finally starts to get relief.

Praises continue to spill from Koyama’s lips. Though he’s entirely distracted by getting his back blown out. His nails dig into Shige’s back and Shige hopes there aren’t any shirtless photoshoots this summer. Thankfully, they seem to have aged out of that trope too.

Koyama tightens around him and they both moan. Shige’s arms loop around Koyama’s shoulders to hold him close. Shige loses himself to the sensations. Arousal and adrenaline mix with the deepest form of love that he never wants to leave. Soreness be damned.

He already feels it in his abdomen, which doesn’t get nearly this much of a workout on a regular basis. If having sex with Koyama is going to feel this good, he may finally get a six pack.

As much as he wants to make this last, his stamina isn’t built for marathon thrusting. All too soon, he can no longer fight his natural instincts to finish.

“Do you want me to pull out?” he manages to ask, pressing the words into Koyama’s sweat-soaked skin.

“No,” Koyama answers firmly. “Come inside me.”

After hearing that, Shige couldn’t hold himself back if he wanted to. His body moves on autopilot, his hips thrusting until he reaches that precarious peak. His voice cracks as he falls right over the edge, clinging to Koyama as he rides out his orgasm. It's intense and mind-shattering.

It takes him a minute to return to consciousness. Koyama lowers his legs and squirms beneath him, struggling to stretch out with Shige’s full weight on top of him.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

Shige finds enough energy to crash to the side. Koyama doesn’t let him go too far away with an arm locked firmly around his waist. Shige reaches down to rub his undoubtedly sore thighs and Koyama moans gratefully. He presses kisses to Shige’s face until Shige meets those lips with his own.

They kiss lazily, no urgency other than to feel each other. Koyama’s fingers trace aimless patterns into the sweat on Shige’s back. Then the air gets warmer, adjusting to how cold they both become as they come down.

“I’m glad we didn’t wait,” Koyama says.

“Me too.”

“What do I call you?”

Shige blinks. “What else would you call me? You’ve always called me Shige or Shige-chan...”

“No, like, are you my boyfriend? Or do you want to use a different word?”

“Boyfriend is fine. Do you not like it?”

“I like it well enough, though it feels superficial. You’re more than a boyfriend to me. You’re also my best friend, my symmetry partner—”

“’Partner’ works for me too,” Shige cuts him off. “It’s gender-neutral and ambiguous enough to use with anyone.”

Koyama wrinkles his nose. “That makes it sound like we’re going into business together.”

“A relationship is like a business.” Shige scoffs when Koyama rolls his eyes. “What do you want to call me then?”

“To be honest, when I look at you, all I can think is ‘my heart’.”

Shige bursts out laughing. “Are you serious?”

“Don’t make fun of me!” Koyama pouts at him. “This is why people in relationships don’t tell each other everything.”

He looks so pitiful that Shige leans forward to kiss him. He presses their lips together until Koyama’s pout goes away. They need to get out of bed, clean up and go about the rest of their day. But Shige can’t bring himself to leave his warm, comfy nest of love.

“Call me whatever you want,” Shige tells him later when they come up for air. “As long as I’m yours.”

“Always.”

As much as that terrifies Shige, it’s equally as exciting.

* 

Nothing changes. Aside from the obvious, Shige and Koyama go about their days like before. Koyama is still an early bird and Shige is still a night owl. There are times when Shige wakes up earlier or Koyama stays up later so that they can spend time together. More often than not, Koyama sleeps in his own bed.

The weather gets warmer, winter succumbing to the birth of spring. Shige wonders why he had even thought things would be different. He’s known Koyama for over twenty years. Consequentially, Koyama also knows him. Including all the unflattering parts he’s kept from datefriends in the past.

When Shige’s trying to focus on a project, Koyama understands. In these times, having Rose hooked up to his mind is actually a godsend. She will let Koyama know that Shige’s in the middle of something. Then he can determine if it’s worth interrupting or not. Usually, he just leaves a message, which Rose gives Shige on his next break.

After a few weeks, Shige’s convinced that his annoyance with past relationships was due to ill timing. Thanks to Rose and the fact that Koyama actually isn’t that demanding of his attention, Shige isn’t bothered at all. He makes time to spend with Koyama because he wants to, not because he _has_ to.

Even with the sudden influx of NEWS activities, they find time to be alone once or twice a week. The world still isn’t safe enough for arena events, so they put together an online concert. Since Koyama’s birthday is on a Saturday this year, it’s scheduled for that weekend.

“What should we do for him this time?”

Shige looks up to find Massu looking at him expectantly, Koyama nowhere to be seen.

“I sent him to the conbini for eclairs,” Massu explains. “I’m going to have to eat one now, so let’s make this conspiracy worth it.”

“Don’t we usually surprise him with a cake?”

“Yes, but since it’s online I thought we could put together a VTR or something. You know, something sentimental to make him cry.”

Shige laughs at how sadistic Massu looks even with a face mask on. For someone who doesn’t enjoy being surprised himself, he sure likes doing it to others.

“That’s a low bar. Doing anything for his birthday will make him cry.”

“Isn’t that the truth.”

Abandoning his laptop, where he had been working on ideas for his solo performance, he leans back in the hard plastic chair. As he stares at the ceiling, he tries to think of things they could do for Koyama.

“We could write him a song.”

“A serious one, or a silly one like you did in our event last summer?”

“A silly one, of course. We can call it ‘Crybaby Leader’ or something mildly insulting.”

Massu grins with his eyes. “I _love_ that. And we can perform it for him when they wheel out the cake.”

“I like the idea of a VTR too. Maybe we can get his mom to give us some embarrassing baby pictures.”

“He’s been an idol for two decades, Shige. They’ve all been used already.”

“Yeah, probably.”

Massu taps his chin in thought, then lights up. “Ooh! We could surprise him the night before and film it. I’ll even come to your creepy house.”

“That...” Shige pauses, considering how Koyama might react if he didn’t know Massu was there too. “...might not be a good idea.”

“Why?”

He genuinely looks confused, and for good reason. Ordinarily, Shige would jump at the opportunity to catch Koyama off guard and shock him. Their entire dynamic is Shige making fun of Koyama for being scared, in the daylight anyway.

Shige remembers what Koyama had said about Massu _not_ wanting to know if they got together. While it would be easiest to tell him the truth, he respects Massu’s boundaries enough to outright lie.

“We have plans that night,” he says smoothly. “With his family. Since he can’t be with them on the actual day.”

“We could do it late, like around midnight.”

“There’s no way he can stay awake that long.”

“Give him coffee! Keep him entertained!” Massu sighs. “Do you two just ignore each other in that big automated deathtrap?”

Shige laughs out loud. “We most definitely do not.”

Massu abruptly stops goading him and stares. “Are you fighting?”

“ _No_.”

“I knew it was a bad idea for you to live together.”

“We’re not fighting! We’re getting along very well!”

“Then why don’t you want me around?”

Now he looks hurt, and Shige feels guilty enough to override his conscience.

“You told him awhile ago that you didn’t want to know if things escalated between us, so...”

Technically, Shige didn’t tell him. He knows Massu figures it out from the way his eyes widen. If Shige had considered this before now, he would have expected them to narrow in concern.

“Are you _kidding_ me? You don’t even like people like that!”

Shige frowns. “I like people just fine.”

“Is it just a sex thing? Does _he_ know that?”

“It’s not just a sex thing, and why are you asking all these questions anyway? I thought you didn’t want to know?”

“I didn’t want to know when we had four members,” Massu says pointedly. “Now that it’s only the three of us, any relationship drama between you two will affect me too.”

“We don’t have any drama! We’re getting along great!”

“Not _yet_. How long as it been, a few months?”

Shige cowers a little under Massu’s stern stare. “Three weeks.”

“That’s not long at all!”

“Why are you yelling at me?! He’s the one who’s been in love with me since our formation just about, and you _knew_ that!”

“Yes, but _you_ haven’t. That’s why I’m yelling at you. I don’t believe you are actually feeling anything _real_ toward him.”

Shige physically jerks back like Massu had punched him. “How could you say that?”

“Because I’ve been watching you both this entire time,” Massu answers evenly. “While nothing about Koyama has changed, _everything_ about you has. From the minute you stepped foot in that house, you became fixated on him like it put you under some kind of spell.”

“What are you even talking about? This has nothing to do with the house.”

“It has _everything_ to do with it. You didn’t look twice at Koyama before you got involved with that invasive technology. Now you can’t stop looking at him. To be honest, I noticed it after you went on the very first tour, before you even told me about it.”

Shige’s nerves twitch a little, like an involuntary fight-or-flight reaction to a threat. “You did?”

“Yes. But I figured you were just lonely. Then you moved him in and I got skeptical. So, I did some internet searching for neurotechnological brainwashing—”

“Oh my god, Taka, I am not fucking _brainwashed_ —”

“And there’s a whole subreddit dedicated to credible research! Technology like this is capable of influencing your feelings and decisions!”

“Because all the credible research is on _Reddit_.”

Massu huffs. “Fine, don’t believe me, but I want you to actually think seriously about how you looked at him before you saw that house. Do it when you’re not connected to it.”

“I’m not connected right now, and I still think you’re insane!”

“I am not, and I heard you shouldn’t use that word anymore. It’s ableist and offensive to people who suffer from mental illnesses.”

Shige pauses. “It is? Thanks for letting me know.”

“No problem.”

“You’re being unreasonable then. There’s no way Rose is making me love Koyama. Those feelings are all my own!”

“How are you so sure? You’ve been hooked up to her for six months already. She could have completely rewired your brain by now.”

“That’s not how it works!”

Massu actually looks worried now, which pisses Shige off even more.

“Take a step back and look at yourself, Shige. Can you even think objectively anymore? You’ve _never_ gotten angry with me like this. You’re like an alcoholic who doesn’t want to admit he has a problem.”

Shige gasps indignantly. “Now you’re comparing my feelings to a serious addiction? If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were just jealous that I managed to find love with my best friend.”

“You found something, that’s for sure.”

“Well, we’re going to be together whether you like it or not, so get used to it.”

“Whatever, Shige. I’ve made my point. You can lower your hackles now.”

Shige tries to calm down. This really is unlike him, especially at work. But Massu’s nonchalance heats him up all over again.

“I _am_ in love with Koyama!”

“That’s nice to hear, but why are you screaming it at Massu?”

Both Shige and Massu swivel their heads to find Koyama in the doorway. Plastic bags dangle from his fingers. He looks more amused than bothered, at least from what Shige can see of his eyes.

“How much of that did you hear?” Shige asks, his heart jumping into his throat.

“Just you professing your feelings to the wrong person.” Koyama nudges Shige as he walks by and dumps the bags on the table. They’re full of eclairs and all kinds of other snacks.

He stares at Massu, who reluctantly grabs an eclair and sits across the room to unhook his mask and eat it.

“I was just telling Shige that—”

“He thinks it’s a bad idea that we’re starting a relationship while continuing to live together,” Shige cuts him off.

Massu starts to refute that, but Shige glares daggers at him and he shakes his head. “Something like that,” he mumbles instead.

Meanwhile, Koyama gives Shige a sad look. “Should I move out for a bit? I could go stay with my mom, but the commute would be awful. Maybe we can wait until after the concert?”

“I don’t want you to move out at all,” Shige insists, and he cheers up along with Koyama at those words. “Massu’s just being overprotective. He doesn’t want this to affect the group.”

“I won’t let it,” Koyama says to Massu before Massu can side-eye Shige for speaking for him again. “I told him not to tell you. I’m sorry.”

“I’m not mad that he told me. I’m mad that he won’t listen to me.”

“We’re being careful, okay?” Koyama says gently. “I know it’s a big risk, but up until today you didn’t suspect anything, right?”

“Actually, I—” Massu starts, then cuts himself off without even looking at Shige. “You’re right. I’ll butt out. I’m sorry.”

Shige’s still gaping in disbelief at Massu’s total 180 when Koyama directs those soft leader eyes to him.

“And _you_. You are very lucky that only SixTONES are on this floor today and they’re all the way down the hall. We don’t need other groups hearing us fight. We _cannot_ risk getting that kind of reputation right now.”

“Sorry,” Shige mutters.

“See?” Koyama says to Massu. “I can still be objective.”

“I’m glad one of you can,” Massu mutters under his breath.

Koyama doesn’t seem to hear him. He stuffs a whole eclair into his mouth as he returns to their concert prep whiteboard. Shige shifts right back into idol mode. He throws out his suggestions for song order and stage formation. It's like any other concert they’ve put together.

“Since there won’t be an audience, maybe we can add some CG to make it fun,” Koyama says brightly. “Make avatar versions of ourselves or something.”

Shige rolls his eyes. “We can’t copy off of Aespa, Kei.”

He just knows that Koyama is pouting under his mask and gives in a little. Filling the empty seats with _something_ seems like a good idea anyway.

When his stomach starts hurting, he has no idea why until he sees the empty eclair wrapper in front of them.

“Yay, Shige ate one too!” Koyama exclaims when he notices. “I’m so happy we can all share my favorite sweet together.”

Shige doesn’t even like eclairs.

* 

Shige does his best not to stew on Massu’s wild and honestly _ridiculous_ accusation. But he’s never been good at not thinking about things. He spends the next week paying close attention to his behavior in and outside of the house. Especially when Koyama is around.

He doesn’t notice anything off. But he wouldn’t, right? According to Massu, his mind has been altered to think this is normal. Even if “this” doesn’t feel any different from the way things were before.

The only thing he knows for sure is that he is absolutely _not_ telling Koyama. It would hurt him far too much to learn that Shige’s feelings for him may be fabricated. That’s why Massu hadn’t told the entire truth that day, as he explained later in a text message. Shige needs to be the one to say it.

He tries to think hard about _before_ and doesn’t get anywhere. He doesn’t keep a journal or talk to anyone who would document his feelings. His parents already thought he and Koyama were together. They still didn’t believe it had only happened a few weeks ago. They would be the ones to tell him if something wasn’t right. He hasn’t seen them in person since the day of the barbeque, but he video chats with them much more often now.

“Rose, are you putting feelings into my heart?”

The question sounds as silly out loud as it had in his head, but he needs to ask.

“I don’t understand the question, Kato-san.”

“Because it doesn’t make any sense,” Shige mutters. “When I first looked at this house, I kept seeing images of Koyama and Milk in all the rooms. Was that my own imagination, or were you putting those pictures in my head?”

“I wasn’t here when you toured the house, Kato-san. I was reset the day you moved in.”

“That’s right.” Shige sighs as he leans back in his desk chair. “After I moved in, then. Have you altered my reality in any way?”

“I am not programmed to do that, Kato-san. I can only proact and react to your neural activity, not change the activity itself.”

“Thank you, Rose. That’s what I thought.”

“I will do a scan of my entire system to be completely certain there hasn’t been any outside tampering. One minute to manual controls.”

Shige starts to stop her, then remembers that Koyama went to bed a long time ago and is probably asleep by now. She wouldn’t have shut down without notifying him first anyway. It happens every time she gets an update.

Right away, he feels very calm. The underlying anxiety he’s had about what Massu said just disappears. It’s such a relief that Shige sighs out loud. He sinks into the leather of his desk chair like it was the mattress of his smart bed. Right now, it’s just as comfortable.

And he still loves Koyama. At least, he thinks he does.

It’s already difficult for him to think about things like that when he’s not in the moment. Particularly in regards to sex and attraction. Those things don’t usually exist for him unless he’s already turned on. Past datefriends used to get on his case for never making the first move, but that’s just the way he’s wired.

Koyama had been an exception, probably because it’s _him_. Shige doesn’t put much stock into the concept of soulmates, but if they did exist, there's no doubt in his mind that Koyama would be his. Just thinking about Koyama makes him warm all over, the way someone who is loved by another person does.

That’s something Shige hasn’t felt before either.

Before he creeps himself out too much, Rose comes back online.

“I did not find any anomalies in any of my sectors, Kato-san. This system has not been compromised.”

“Thank you, Rose. Can you tell me if Koyama’s still asleep?”

“He is. Should I give him a message for you?”

“No, thank you.”

Shige scoots back and gets to his feet, a little wobbly due to the late hour. He hasn’t been drinking, though it feels like he has. Slowly, Shige peeks out his office door and down the hall. Koyama’s door is open.

“Rose, please shut down until I ask you to restart.”

“If I shut down, you will need to use the controls on your phone to turn me back on, since I will not be able to hear you call.”

“That’s fine.”

“Are you sure you want to shut down?”

“Yes.”

He has to know.

It’s been a while since he’s been in Koyama’s room. They usually spend time in his since he has the smart bed, or one of the main rooms downstairs. Shige likes to give Koyama his privacy even when Koyama doesn’t ask for it. That’s just being a courteous housemate. Escalating their relationship hasn’t changed that.

He didn’t have to worry about it being dark since the wall screen was still on. There’s a screen-saver-like animation bouncing from corner to corner. It seems that Koyama had needed it to stay on to sleep. Otherwise, Rose would have turned it off the instant he was unconscious.

Koyama sleeps in a ball, curled up with his own limbs. It's much like the cat at the end of the bed who stirs when Shige steps further inside. Koyama’s not nearly as much of a light sleeper as Milk is. Shige doesn’t have to be that quiet, but he doesn’t want to startle him either. For what he needs to do, Koyama doesn’t have to be awake.

He perches on the edge of Koyama’s regular bed and looks down at him. He looks so peaceful and serene, not a care in the world. Koyama’s such a simple creature and that’s the main reason they get along so well. He offsets Shige’s complexity, amongst other things.

But that’s _all_ Shige feels. He cares about Koyama, would be devastated if anything happened to remove him from his life, but he’s not _drawn_ to him. He doesn’t want to sneak under the covers and snuggle him until he makes a funny nose. He isn’t completely inundated with warm feelings just by looking at him.

He’s so terrified that he fumbles with his phone and almost drops it on Koyama’s face. The harsh backlight stings his eyes, but he doesn’t care. Quickly, he taps on the house app and presses the big power button.

Nothing happens, at least that Shige can sense, but the app says it’s back online. This time, when he regards Koyama all curled up in his bed, he smiles fondly and reaches down to stroke his hair. He revels in the soft mewls Koyama makes that earn Milk’s attention again.

Shige doesn’t realize what happened right away. Everything feels so natural. He has to force himself to remember everything he’s feeling now is everything he _didn’t_ feel two minutes ago. Within no time, he’s freaked himself out so much that he really does slip into Koyama’s bed and wrap both arms around him. He needs something real to hold onto right now.

Koyama stirs a little, but doesn’t wake up. It’s better this way since Shige doesn’t even know what he would begin to say to him. How do you tell someone who loves you so much that a _computer_ is the only thing making you love them back?

This is all Massu’s fault. If only he hadn’t put the idea into Shige’s head, Shige would have gone on oblivious and happy. As long as he stayed living in this house, that is.

With what he paid for it, he will probably never move, but anything is possible. But now that he knows the truth, how can he keep up this lie? It’s dishonest. Or is it?

Shige genuinely feels like he’s in love with Koyama right now. His continued disbelief overrides his natural urges to exist with his feelings. Which he keeps reminding himself aren’t real.

None of this is real.

“Shige?” Koyama mumbles. “Is everything okay?”

The man in his embrace squirms a little, then snuggles closer and flings an arm around his waist.

“Yes, sorry. Go back to sleep.”

Shige presses a kiss to Koyama’s forehead and Koyama smiles without opening his eyes.

“I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me too.”

* 

All this technology and there’s no way for Shige to turn off his brain. Since he learned that his feelings for Koyama aren’t genuine, it pushes its way to the front of his mind whenever they’re together. _Every. Single. Time_.

In the morning, when he stumbles downstairs and kisses Koyama over his first cup of coffee.

On location for NEWS na Futari, when they sneak glances and smile at each other in ways that their fans all dissect online when it airs.

When they eat dinner together, Shige cooking and Koyama “helping,” his heart swelling from Koyama’s praise.

Even during more intimate types of praise, when Koyama’s body trembles from everything Shige does to him. Every orgasm further cements their inorganic bond.

The worst is late at night, when Shige’s alone in his office struggling to concentrate on his work. The more he tries not to think about it, the more it lingers at the edges of his consciousness, demanding to be seen. It’s like whatever did this to him refuses to give him the continued peace of ignorant bliss.

His first mistake is telling Massu. He knows it’s wrong before he even does it. He calls a meeting with only Massu under the pretense of planning more of Koyama’s birthday surprise. But he has to talk to someone. Living with this kind of secret is slowly deteriorating his sanity.

“What do I do?” he asks, pleads to Massu’s gentle eyes.

Massu leans back on his couch and sighs. He's all the way across the room from where Shige was asked to sit in a covered armchair.

“I don’t know what to tell you. If you shut down the house, you’ll hurt him. If you keep going like this, you’re hurting _yourself_. Are you sure there’s no way you have feelings for him normally?”

“It’s such a drastic difference, Taka. I can’t rule out the possibility of falling for him in the future, of course. But wouldn’t that have already happened by now? We’ve known each other since we were teenagers. I’ve had all the time in the world to develop feelings for him.”

“And there’s no way he would understand...” Massu trails off, shaking his head before he even finishes speaking. “You already told him you’re in love with him, so reneging so soon would be a total dick move.”

“He did make me promise that we’d still be friends if it didn’t work out. But like you just said, a few weeks isn’t really enough time to decide that. No matter what I say, it will look like I just made it up to lead him on, like a joke.”

“I don’t suppose it would help if _I_ talked to him?” Massu wonders out loud. “As much as I don’t want to get involved in your business—and that is a _lot_ —it has to sound better coming from someone else.”

“Or it will twist the knife deeper.” Shige sighs. “I wish you had never said anything to me.”

“You are not putting this on me, Shigeaki.”

“I’m not! I was just much happier when I didn’t know I had been technologically manipulated.”

“But what happens if you sell the house? If her system goes down for a long period of time? What if one of her updates erases whatever code is controlling you? Won’t he be even more hurt the longer this goes on?”

“Only if something unlikely like that happens!” Shige realizes how loud his voice has become and tries to calm down. “I can’t forget it now anyway. Continuing like this isn’t an option.”

“I guess you’ve made your decision then.”

Shige rubs his eyes and sanitizes his hands before Massu can tell him to. “I’m a coward.”

“A little bit, yeah.”

Frowning at Massu’s special brand of tough love, Shige considers his options. He can shut off the house and try to fall in love with Koyama on his own. Or, he can tell Koyama what happened and hope he doesn’t react badly. The honorable choice is obvious, but honor and bravery go hand in hand. Shige doesn’t have much of the latter right now.

“I think I’m gonna shut down the house for a few days and see how I feel. I don’t trust myself right now. As long as it’s online, no matter where I am, my thoughts and decisions are affected by the feelings I don’t actually have.”

“That’s a good idea,” Massu says, and Shige feels less like scum. “Spend some time apart. Take a trip or something. We’ve been working together a lot, it’s understandable that you’d want some time to yourself.”

“Yeah...” Shige smiles for the first time without Koyama around in days. “I’ll do that.”

There aren’t many places he can go right now, or rather he shouldn’t really be going anywhere. He plans an overnight trip to Hokkaido in hopes that it might inspire his creativity somehow. When he tells Koyama, he suggests that Koyama visit his mom at the same time so they can give Rose a break and save power.

“It’s like when you turn your laptop off,” he tries to explain. “Even if you’re not using it, it uses energy and electricity when it could be relaxing.”

“Technology needs to relax?” Koyama questions innocently, and Shige feels even worse misleading him. “Isn’t it okay if I stay here while everything is offline?”

Shige can’t think of a good reason to say no, so he changes tactics. “Are you fighting with your mom or something?”

“No. I’ll see if she wants some company. Enjoy your peace and quiet, Shige.”

Shige blinks as he realizes that Koyama might be upset that he wasn’t invited along. “You aren’t being passive-aggressive are you? Because you said you would keep telling me what’s on your mind even after we escalated our relationship.”

“It’s not that...” Koyama trails off, looking like he’s struggling to come up with the right words. “We’ve been spending a lot of time together and I get it. You need your space. I guess it’s easier when you’re down the hall instead of halfway across the country.”

“Kei, I’m sorry—”

“No, don’t apologize. You are who you are, and I knew that getting into this. I know you’re not doing this because you don’t want to be with me. My heart just doesn’t want to listen to my brain.”

Shige’s own heart aches at that, along with the nasty voice that’s become an unwelcome guest in his mind. It tells him he wouldn’t feel this way if the house was off. He might even be annoyed with Koyama’s reaction. The Shige who’s not in love with Koyama doesn’t like being guilted for doing what he wants.

If he’s being honest with himself, he’s not looking forward to being that person again. Now that he knows how it feels to genuinely love Koyama with all his soul, he doesn’t want to go back to _nothing_. Regular Shige would argue that what he had with Koyama before this was more than enough. But this Shige isn’t having any of that.

It’s like an updated version of those old psychological thrillers where people have two personalities that fight with each other. Once considered science fiction, now part of this technological utopia. Many would probably still think it’s fiction, but Shige is living proof that it’s real.

Ironically, the concept of reality is what Shige’s struggling with the most. Up until now, what he feels has always been what he considered “real,” and it’s been an adjustment to second-guess it. He feels like he teeters the edge of sanity every day. At what point does he stop believing _anything_ is real?

Putting some distance between himself and the house (and Koyama) might clear this up once and for all. He makes Koyama leave first, trying not to notice his sad eyes as he walks out the door with a few bags and a cat carrier. Then, it’s go time.

“Rose, I want you to shut down now. Please hold all messages and do not let anyone else turn you back on. Only me. Do you understand?”

“Certainly, Kato-san. Enjoy your trip.”

Less than a minute later, Shige feels like he’d just taken a deep breath. All his worries are still there, just farther away. He can’t be upset about not being in love with Koyama when he’s not in love with Koyama.

Hokkaido is as nice as he remembers. He’d rented a small room in a rural area from hosts who were thrilled to have a guest. It's centrally located in a village with a few shops and restaurants. Shige takes his time walking around and perusing them.

He does not once think about Koyama.

This is what his life was like before. He took spontaneous trips like this all the time and it didn’t affect anyone else. It was one of the many joys of being single. Even when he did date other people, he kept it casual. They would meet up no more than a few times a month, which was all Shige could stand before it became too much.

What he has now with Koyama is beyond too much. Work, home, _and_ a relationship? Even five hundred miles away, he feels suffocated. Living with Koyama was already pushing it. It would be okay if they were just friends and didn’t have a lot of work together. That is definitely not the case.

Shige feels like an asshole. This guilt is completely self-inflicted. What he actually feels bad about is falling for temptation in the first place. If he’d never agreed to tour the house, none of this would have happened. He’d still have his cramped apartment and Koyama would have his own place. They’d still be comrades who have a deep, platonic relationship.

Of course, Koyama would still be in love with him, but there’s nothing Shige could do about that. In fact, he wishes he didn’t know that either. Even if he did decide to keep the house shut down, being aware of Koyama’s feelings would change things.

Shige sighs as huddles under the kotatsu in his tiny room. It reminds him of his kotatsu at home. He and Koyama spent most of the winter curled up under it while watching various things on the wall screen. They may not have liked the same types of media, but they liked each other and were happy to compromise. It was something to do while they cuddled anyway.

Now, it feels like he’s thinking of someone else doing those things. Or a past relationship that was less intensive. The most recent time was just the other day, yet it feels so distant. This Shige still enjoys cuddling and stimulating conversation, even sexual intimacy. He’s just not much into the feelings aspect of it.

After a restless night in a regular bed, he makes a decision. He’s going to tell Koyama everything, which is what he should have done in the first place. He’ll let Koyama decide whether to stay or go, whether to keep the house online or not. It’s his home too—it’s only fair that he gets to weigh in the decision.

Shige can always move again. He’s got enough in his savings to buy something decent even if he can’t sell this property right away. There are bigger apartments he could look into too, smart ones that are less invasive than what he has now. He could even keep his bed.

As he travels back to Tokyo, he realizes that he’s still being a coward by placing the burden onto Koyama. Koyama’s already the most indecisive person he knows, and the added pressure won’t make it any better. Knowing Koyama, he’ll just call the whole thing off and move out—but at least they’ll stay friends. Probably.

It’s oddly quiet when he returns home. Physically unlocking the door seems surreal, but he doesn’t want to go back online yet. Not until he can talk to Koyama as his authentic self. He can survive a few hours flipping light switches and using the navigation app on his phone.

He doesn’t go upstairs right away. He dumps his dirty clothes into the laundry chute and enjoys the peace for a little bit. He could continue living here without the smart features, he thinks. It would be a waste of the house that was built specifically for it, but it would save him the subscription fees.

Then he goes upstairs and notices Koyama’s door closed. On it, a piece of anime stationary paper is tacked to the wood.

Shige drops his bags and runs down the hallway, like it’s going to disappear if he doesn’t get there fast enough. His heart catches in his throat as he thinks the worst. What kind of news is handwritten in a note instead of sent in a text message?

_Dear Shige, I’m gonna stay with my mom until after the concert. You’re right—we need time apart, especially when we’re working together so closely. I came back early to get more things and found this stationary. Isn’t it cute? I’ll see you at rehearsal tomorrow. Love you, Keiichiro._

Shige’s hit full-force by something so strong that he physically falls to his knees. He clutches the note to his chest as he lets out a long exhale.

It’s _relief_.

* 

He doesn’t turn the house back on right away. Without Koyama here, he doesn’t need to be in boyfriend mode, so he takes a few days to get used to doing things manually.

It’s not that inconvenient. People have been turning on lights and opening doors and windows on their own for centuries. The biggest issue Shige has is remembering to manually lock his door when he leaves. And making sure he has his keys.

The concert is only a few weeks away, so he’s rehearsing with Koyama and Massu every day. Koyama doesn’t act any differently toward him and he’s grateful for it. They’ve worked together long enough to put aside any personal issues in favor of the group. Up until now, there haven’t really been any.

Still, he finds himself feeling sad when he’s home alone in his big, empty house. Not because he misses Koyama—but because he _doesn’t_. If Koyama were to move back in right now, it wouldn’t affect Shige’s life any. Aside from having to pretend, that is.

Now that he knows how it feels to be in love with someone who is basically his soulmate, feeling _nothing_ is what’s sad. Even with the moral dilemma looming over his head, he feels like he’s missing out on something _amazing_ by choosing to have his right mind.

“You really are a coward,” Massu tells him when Shige catches him up on what’s been going on.

They’re putting the finishing touches on their song for Koyama’s birthday. This makes Shige even sadder. All these memories of the three of them together should make him feel some kind of longing, right? Shige just has the usual pride that they’ve made it this far as a group.

“I know that,” Shige grumbles. “I was going to tell him, but then he left. And I’m not telling him while we’re working.”

“You could meet up with him any other time, you know.”

“He’s the one who wants space! So I’m giving it to him.”

“No, you’re making excuses.”

Shige sighs. Massu’s right, but it still feels wrong to just call Koyama up and potentially break his heart. If they still lived together, it would be easier. As it is now, there’s nothing to stop Koyama from just...not coming home.

“I kind of miss having feelings for him.”

That has Massu staring at him, and Shige doesn’t blame him. Now that he can think objectively, he realizes how ridiculous he must sound right now.

“It’s just that I’ve never felt such deep, selfless love before, you know? Like, it’s so far beyond our usual unconditional camaraderie that once it was gone, I felt empty. There’s a hole in my heart now that I am unable to fill.”

“I think that house hardcoded your brain somehow so that you’re still affected even when you’re not connected to it. You’re experiencing actual withdrawal right now.”

Massu sounds fascinated. It’s like he’s a scientist studying the effects of neurotechnology on a participant instead of someone trying to knock sense into their stubborn colleague. Shige supposes it would be interesting to someone who is not experiencing it personally.

“I want it back.”

He closes his eyes as he says it, because he doesn’t want to see Massu’s disappointed eyes. Unfortunately, he knows they’re still there.

“Do what you like.”

“Really?” Shige peeks one eye open to see if Massu’s bullshitting him. From what he can see above the mask, Massu’s actually serious.

“It’s your life. You are aware of what you’re doing, and the consequences. If you choose to keep doing it anyway, I’m not going to stop you.”

“Are you mad?”

“I don’t get mad about how other people live their lives.”

“Are you going to say anything to him?”

“I don’t tell other people’s business either.”

“One of the many reasons I enjoy working with you,” Shige says, and the corners of Massu’s eyes crinkle from his smile. “I’m going to tell him, but not until after the concert.”

“All right.”

That’s that. They go over their silly birthday song for Koyama and the timing of the cake reveal one more time. Then they’re done with their clandestine meetings. Koyama hasn’t caught wind that they were working on something without him yet. He’s not usually one to notice things like that anyway.

When Shige gets home, he boots up the house before he changes his mind. Just like before, he doesn’t feel any kind of difference when Rose is back online—there’s not a rush of energy or anything. He just becomes very aware of how he is the only one here.

Now he misses Koyama, and he’s beyond thrilled about it. He visualizes Koyama in all his usual spots, and Milk pops up in the windows too. She hasn’t spent so much time at Koyama’s mom’s before; he hopes she’s not too homesick. It took her long enough to adjust to living with Shige.

They haven’t texted since Koyama moved out, and Shige has been fine with that up until now. Space means no messages either, right? Shige hasn’t actually done this kind of relationship separation before. Before now, taking time off from each other wasn’t an option.

He’s grateful that Koyama is the type of person with whom he can have space.

The NEWS na Futari van is a prime opportunity to check in without interrupting their work. There’s still a driver, but they can keep their voices low enough to get drowned out by the engine. The entire staff ships them together anyway.

“Hey,” he says, reaching his hand out to poke Koyama in the arm from the other side of the backseat. “How’s it going at your mom’s?”

“She is so happy to have me around,” Koyama reports happily. “I see my sister and her kids a lot too. We still can’t get too close, but talking to them in person is much better than over video chat.”

“What about you? How are _you_ doing?”

Koyama sighs. “I’m good. It’s nice to breathe fresh air.”

“You can open the windows at home, you know.”

“It’s not the same. Kanagawa air smells different.”

“You’re probably right.”

They sit quiet for a bit, long enough for Koyama to put his earbuds back in. Frowning, Shige pokes him again.

“Sorry, I thought you were done talking.”

“I miss you.”

There, he said it. He turns his head just enough to see Koyama’s face in his peripheral vision, pleased to find that he’s hiding a smile.

“That’s nice to hear.”

“Do you miss me?”

“Of course I do.”

“Then come home.”

That last part came out on its own, but Shige doesn’t regret it. It’s how he feels, whether it’s influenced by technology or not. Right now, he wants Koyama in his arms again.

“I told you, I’ll come home after the concerts.”

“That’s too far away.”

“It’s next weekend.”

“I’ve already waited _weeks_.”

“Then you can wait a little longer.”

He actually smirks while Shige pouts, like he’s enjoying what little power he can wield over Shige this way. It’s a firm reminder how much these feelings affect him. The old Shige would not appreciate being talked down to like this.

This Shige sighs and gives in. Koyama looks so good today, his arms bulging in a plain T-shirt and his hair pushed back with a ball cap. He’s already starting to tan, the sun kissing his skin that seems to shine before Shige’s eyes.

He missed looking at Koyama this way too. There’s something about being attracted to someone that feels so nice. Even if Shige can’t touch him for another week and a half.

Then Koyama places his hand on the seat between them, palm facing up. Shige rushes to lace their fingers together. Koyama squeezes and Shige’s filled with sheer elation. Such a simple gesture seems to completely revive him after so long of no contact.

“I miss you too,” Koyama says softly, and Shige swoons.

* 

“Everyone!” Koyama yells to an empty arena. “Are you enjoying the show?”

Shige pretends that he hears tens of thousands of screams, holding his hand up to his ear to encourage more.

“I don’t hear anything,” Massu says flatly, putting on his saddest pout.

“You have to listen in your heart,” Koyama tells him seriously, pointing to his chest for reference. “Everyone who is watching us right now is reaching out with their answers, but we can’t hear it with our ears. We have to feel it with our hearts.”

Massu squeezes his eyes shut and scrunches up his face like he’s concentrating really hard. Then his eyes pop open.

“Ah! I feel it! Thank you everyone!”

He side-eyes Shige, which is the cue for Shige to go off-stage. Koyama doesn’t notice, talking about all their upcoming promotions like the seasoned MC he is. It’s not until he gets to Shige’s new TV spot that he notices there are only two of them on the stage.

“Eh? Where did Shige go?”

Massu shrugs exaggeratedly. “I don’t know.”

“He already had his solo, right? He doesn’t need to get ready for anything...”

Koyama looks genuinely distraught, because they hadn’t rehearsed this before. At the end of the MC, which is where they are now, they’re supposed to go right into Happy Birthday. That's when Koyama thinks he’s getting his cake.

Instead, Shige’s strapped with his guitar with the VTR on standby. He's only a little nervous as he waits for the narrator to introduce him. The song he and Massu had thrown together is honestly ridiculous and in no way a testament of his feelings. Yet, he still feels like he’s about to walk out and serenade Koyama in front of everyone. 

It’s actually a miracle that they’d pulled this off without Koyama finding out. Particularly since they had to slip the VTR to the staff and sneak in Shige’s guitar. He hadn’t had enough foresight to plan a solo he could sing acoustically, so they had to improvise.

“ _Koyama Keiichiro-san_ ~”

“Yes?” Koyama replies. He spins around at the disembodied voice much like Shige had done when he first met Rose. “I’m Koyama.”

“We know that,” Massu mutters.

“ _Today is your birthday_.”

“It is!” Koyama exclaims jovially. “I’m thirty-seven years old!”

His voice echoes throughout the empty arena. Koyama just grins and nods at all the well-wishes he feels in his heart.

“ _Your members have prepared a special surprise for you_.”

“Eh? My members?”

Koyama turns to stare at Massu, who whistles innocently and looks around.

“Massu, what is he talking about? Where is Shige?”

In response, Shige plays a few chords on his guitar, which booms through the speakers of the arena.

“Shige? Is that you?”

Massu rolls his eyes. “Who else would it be?”

Koyama’s face lights up, and that’s when Shige opens his mouth.

“Koyama Keiichiro has a birthday today,” he sings quickly as he strolls back onto the stage. “Koyama Keiichiro is the leader of NEWS. And on his birthday today, as our leader, Koyama Keiichiro is...going...to... _cry_.”

Koyama bursts out laughing, the corners of his eyes already shining. “What is this?”

Massu points to the screen behind them, and the VTR starts playing. It’s a montage of every time Koyama has cried on film, precariously timed to Massu’s bouncy melody.

“He cries during concerts, he cries on TV. He cries on trains, planes, and cars. He cries when he’s happy, he cries when he’s sad. He cries when he loses, he cries when he wins.”

Shige steps in front of Massu to take the next verse, slowing the tempo down dramatically. “No matter the weather, his face still rains. No matter the feeling, it spills from his eyes. No matter the occasion, he’s wearing red on his cheeks. Our crybaby leader, just as you are, never change.”

The last part has Shige and Massu in harmony, which means Massu’s shoving Shige over to stand next to him.

“Koyama Keiichiro, on your birthday today, feel free to share your tears with us once again. Because only real men cry, you must be the manliest man alive. Happy Birthday to our crybaby leader!”

They end with a big flourish. Shige strums the guitar while Massu does a silly dance with his arms pointed toward Koyama.

The next second has Massu applauding loudly to combat the silence. Koyama pries his eyes away from the last VTR shot of the three of them together. Of course, his tears are overflowing.

“So mean!” he calls out, but he’s smiling.

“Who’s being mean?” Massu asks, looking from Koyama to Shige and back to Koyama. “We’re celebrating you!”

“Yeah,” Shige agrees. “Since it’s your birthday, we wanted to honor the best part of you.”

“Crying is the best part of me?!”

“Being true to yourself is!” Shige exclaims. “You’re not afraid to show your emotions! That’s commendable!”

Next to him, Massu nods. “I wish I could cry so freely like you,” he says.

“I can’t believe you two,” Koyama mutters, hanging his head as he wipes his eyes. “It’s my birthday and you made fun of me.”

“Ah, he’s crying now,” Shige points out.

“We did good,” Massu replies, sticking out his elbow for a low touch.

That’s when the intro to Happy Birthday starts. Koyama glares at them through the entirety of his cake reveal. Then he sees that it’s a giant eclair topped with strawberries and can’t stop himself from laughing. Whatever frustration he may have had instantly dissolves.

Shige’s not surprised when he ends up with frosting smeared on his nose. Koyama chases Massu all around the stage to try and get him too, but Massu’s fast when he wants to be. He also _really_ doesn’t like food on his face.

Inevitably, Koyama gives up and they finish the song, then head offstage to change for the second half. The rest of the concert goes on like normal and Shige heads right for the shower the minute it’s over. He's drenched in sweat and exhausted from running around for two hours.

He had thought he was done being shower-bombed when Tegoshi left the group. Yet, he door opens and someone slips into the stall with him. Koyama’s cologne inundates his senses and Shige pulls him close. He's desperate for any kind of affection now that they’re alone.

“Hello to you too,” Koyama whispers, wrapping his arms around Shige from behind. He kisses the back of Shige’s neck before pushing him out of the way to steal the water for himself.

“Hey!”

“That’s for making fun of me!” Koyama says, using all his strength to hold Shige out of the spray radius. “I hope you’re cold.”

Shige’s not cold at all. His skin practically burns from his concert high plus the sight of Koyama wet and naked in front of him. He’s already well aware of how long it’s been since he’s been able to touch Koyama like this. It’s even more prominent when it’s dangling right in front of him—so to speak.

“I didn’t decide that by myself, you know! Are you going to jump in the shower with Massu next?”

Koyama gives him a pointed look. “You and I both know I am not going to do that.”

“Good,” Massu calls out from the next stall. “And yes, I can hear you.”

Shige rolls his eyes. He could care less if everyone knows that he and Koyama are showering together. Nobody in this entire arena (or watching online) would be surprised.

Still, he lowers his voice, out of respect for Massu.

“What, you didn’t like your present?”

He pouts in exaggeration, and now Koyama is rolling his eyes.

“Is that my _only_ present?”

“You’ll get your real present when you come home tomorrow.”

Shige licks his lips pointedly and feels a sense of satisfaction when Koyama’s eyes dip down to his mouth.

“Actually, I’m coming home tonight.”

“ _What_?!”

Shige’s voice rises in both volume and pitch, but he doesn’t care. They still have one more show. Shige had figured the earliest Koyama would return is tomorrow evening.

“You don’t want me to? My manager has already dropped off my bags and Milk-chan...”

“No, no, I do.”

Koyama grins and pulls Shige back under the water, kissing him so hard that Shige’s knees buckle. Luckily, Koyama’s holding him up, so Shige allows his brain to turn off and wraps his arms around Koyama’s shoulders. _Finally_ , he can reunite himself with the lips and tongue he hasn’t felt for almost a month now.

By the time they pull apart, the water is cold. Shige didn’t get a chance to wash properly, and neither for that matter did Koyama. They only need to rinse off before heading home. Shige would rather bathe with Koyama in their giant bathtub anyway.

It feels like forever to make the short trek back to their house. At least they can snuggle in the backseat because Shige’s manager knows about them. He’s not about to give the poor guy a show though, so he just lays his head on Koyama’s shoulder and enjoys the closeness.

Koyama’s heartbeat is as fast as his own, and it’s only a little from the cheers of the fans.

“Welcome home, Koyama-san,” Rose says when they walk through the front door.

“Yeah, welcome home,” Shige adds. He's smiling so hard that his face hurts while Koyama gets scanned for the first time since March.

Predictably, Koyama’s eyes are full of tears when he steps off the platform, and Shige wouldn’t have him any other way.

*

It’s not until Koyama and Shige are settled in Shige’s bed that Shige remembers about the decision he’d made. With all the excitement, he’d forgotten about his conundrum.

Koyama wasn’t supposed to be back until tomorrow. Not that Shige complaining one bit, but it does throw a wrench in his plans to confess everything. In the event that it ends badly, he doesn’t want to do it right before a concert.

Besides, he actually has to force himself to think about it now. It’s not as easy to separate his feelings from reality when he feels them so strongly. Saying he truly doesn’t have them feels like a lie.

What will he even gain by telling Koyama? It will just hurt him for no reason. He might not even care. He made Shige promise to stay friends in the event Shige fell out of love with him, right? This is kind of like that.

“I’m honestly surprised you’re not all over me.”

Shige chuckles, grateful for the interruption from his thoughts. He’s the little spoon this time, rare despite the natural order based on their height differences. Koyama’s arms are tight around him with his face pressed into Shige’s hair, freshly washed from the proper shower they’d taken the minute they got home.

“You’re the one in the prime seducing position,” he points out, wiggling back a little for effect.

As expected, Koyama tightens his grip and presses closer. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been able to hold you like this.”

“Who’s fault is that? You could have come home anytime.”

Koyama makes a deflated noise. “I know, I just...needed to see something.”

“What did you need to see?”

“If we were really in love or just together out of convenience.”

Shige’s eyes fly open. He makes the effort to turn around enough to look at Koyama’s face, which is solemn in the dim light. The wall screen is playing a late-night variety show, but they’re not really watching it.

“It seemed too good to be true, you know?” Koyama goes on before Shige can put into words the incredulity swimming around in his mind. “It didn’t happen for us for twenty years. All the sudden, we’re together two months after we start sharing living space.”

Shige doesn’t say anything. He is very aware that he has a valid reason for that, and just as certain that he won’t be sharing it right now.

“I guess I had to see if you still wanted to be with me when I wasn’t around all the time.” Koyama lowers his eyes in shame. “I’m sorry I didn’t trust your feelings.”

Guilt pierces Shige’s heart, but all he does is reach up to stroke Koyama’s cheek. “I’m not mad. I understand.”

“You do?”

“Yes. I just wish you would have told me that.”

“I wanted to, but every way I thought of saying it felt like I was accusing you of faking it or something. And then you took your trip and I thought you might be starting to get sick of me, so it seemed like a good time to take a break. I’m such a coward.”

“No, you’re not,” Shige says gently. _I am._

“Anyway, I know now that what we have is real. I missed you every day we were apart, and working together wasn’t enough. This is absolutely where I’m meant to be, here in this house together with you.”

Any other time, Koyama’s words would be romantic, but Shige feels more and more like scum. Even though he doesn’t feel it now, he knows that he didn’t miss Koyama one bit until he turned the house back on. He doesn’t know if he’d be able to say the same when Rose is offline.

“Me too,” he says anyway, because he feels it in his heart right now.

What is “real” anyway?

Koyama kisses him, and Shige’s happy to turn his brain off and succumb to those familiar lips. Shige quickly becomes pliant. It’s easy for Koyama to roll him onto his back, hovering over him as their kiss heats up. All Shige can do is hold onto Koyama’s arms, feeling the bulging muscles as he’s ravished in his own bed.

“No pressure,” Koyama whispers between kisses. “But I’m in a rather _giving_ mood tonight, if you feel like taking it.”

“We have a concert tomorrow,” Shige mumbles, but only his voice is protesting.

“I’ll be gentle.”

“I don’t doubt that you will.”

Shige makes it another few kisses before giving in. He wraps all four of his limbs around Koyama’s torso to pull him flush on top of him. Koyama’s already hard enough to feel and Shige’s hips rock up for more, his own cock stiffening in his sleep pants.

He becomes very aware how long it’s been since they’ve done this. It's been even longer since Shige was the one on the receiving end. Koyama had said he likes it better, so they have only done it that way in the short amount of time they’ve been doing it. Shige can’t remember the last time that he was the one penetrated. It’s been a good number of years since anyone else has been back there.

And he wants it now. The mere thought of Koyama stretching him open and thrusting inside has him arching. He claws at the fabric covering Koyama’s skin until it’s out of the way. Koyama undresses him too. They reacquaint themselves with each other's bodies until Shige shudders from all the tingles.

After the first time, they both make sure to keep lube stocked in opportune parts of the house. Koyama knows right where to look in Shige’s bedside drawer to find it. He doesn’t open it though, just places it to the side as he drags his mouth along both sides of Shige’s neck. It makes his head tilt back all the way.

“How do you want it?” Koyama asks in this sinfully low voice, vibrating Shige’s throat. “Do you like to come before you take it, like I do?”

Shige struggles to shake his head. “No, I have to wait until the end. Once I come, I’m done.”

“Aw, okay. I wanted to suck you off first, but I’ll get right to business.”

“You don’t have to.” Shige moans softly at the way Koyama’s nipping behind his ear. “You can do that, but not too fast.”

“Is it still good if you don’t finish?”

“Oh yeah. You can even prep me while you’re down there.”

Koyama makes an approving noise. “I would definitely want to come if you were doing that to me.”

“Oh, I’ll want to come. It’s that feeling I like having when you’re inside me.”

“Like denial?”

“Kind of.”

“Like _edging_?”

Shige looks down to find Koyama giving him an innocent, devious look. “What do you know about that, Mr. I Have to Come Right Away?”

“Just because it doesn’t work for me doesn’t mean I can’t make it happen for you. In fact, I would _love_ to watch you on the brink of orgasm for as long as I can hold out.”

“So, five minutes then?”

Koyama slaps Shige’s arm lightly, and Shige laughs. “I last longer when I’m the one on top!”

“Prove it.”

Their next kiss is deep, Koyama’s tongue flicking his like a prelude of what he’s going to do to his cock. Shige writhes beneath him. Fingers drift down his belly, then trail all the way down his length and back up again. A small whine escapes from Shige’s lungs.

“If you keep making noises like that, I’ll want to do it even longer.”

“Feels good.”

And it does, especially when Koyama kisses his way down Shige’s chest and presses his lips to the head. He’s applying the least amount of pressure and Shige loves it. His body squirms on its own as an involuntary reaction to all the tension that overcomes him at once.

Koyama makes a loose circle around the base and tongues him down. He's licking Shige’s cock like it’s an ice cream cone that’s melting on all sides. Shige’s all the way hard now, twitching from the incessant teasing, both hands fisting the sheets.

“You can pull my hair, if you like. I don’t mind a little pain.”

The warm air that comes out with Koyama’s voice stimulates him even more. Shige detaches his left hand from the bed to sink it into Koyama’s hair. It’s too thin to get a good grip, so he twists it around his fingers and Koyama groans so low that Shige feels it in his balls.

Then Koyama takes the head into his mouth and Shige chokes on his moan. Slowly, Koyama goes all the way down. In no time, Shige feels throat muscles constricting around him.

“Oh my _god_ ,” Shige whines, using all his energy to keep himself from thrusting. “Of _course_ you don’t have a gag reflex.”

Koyama’s chuckle elicits another moan. He swallows a few more times and pulls back, sucking hard enough to keep Shige active. Shige's nerves are on alert as he feels that delicious burn under his skin.

“How’s this?” Koyama asks, pressing the question into Shige’s hard flesh, and Shige shakily pets Koyama’s hair.

“Good, it’s good,” he says, forcing the answer out with focus he doesn’t have. “Do you have a praise kink too? Because I don’t know how long I can make coherent words.”

“Noises are fine. I just want to know that I’m doing it right. If you want me to do something different, tell me, or move me yourself. Okay?”

“I will do that.”

“Otherwise, I’ll accept any vocal appreciation you are capable of giving me. I fucking love your voice when you moan.”

Before Shige can answer, Koyama sucks him back down, and all that comes out is a low groan. Koyama hums in a way that Shige takes to mean “like that” and does it again. He allows Shige's hips to rock a few times to make Koyama take him deeper.

Even though he was expecting it, the pressure between his legs comes as a surprise. It would be embarrassing how widely he spreads his thighs if he wasn’t doing it for Koyama. Koyama deep-throats him again, like he’s rewarding Shige for letting him in. Shige’s body is already trembling before Koyama’s even got a lubed fingertip inside.

Koyama starts to move a little too fast once he starts stretching, but a gentle tug to his hair slows him down. Shige’s nowhere close to finishing. He doesn’t want to get anywhere near that point until Koyama’s pounding inside him.

He doesn’t even have to try to moan for Koyama—it happens on its own. Every time Koyama’s mouth moves at all, whether he’s got him all the way in or licking the tip. And every time his fingers apply pressure to the spot that has him trying to crawl out of his skin.

“Kei...” he gasps when Koyama pushes in a third finger, still going to town on Shige’s cock like he’s got energy for days. “ _Kei-chan_.”

Koyama doesn’t change what he’s doing, probably assuming that Shige’s just saying his name. Shige actually wants his attention and yanks on Koyama’s hair until he pulls all the way off.

“Mm, Shige, you ready for me now?”

“Yeah,” Shige answers. He takes the opportunity to breathe now that Koyama’s not sucking the air out of him anymore. “Turn me around.”

“You want me behind you?”

“Yes. But don’t lean up—I still want to feel you close.”

“I’ve got you.”

It takes both of them to roll Shige onto his belly. He manages to push himself up on his elbows and knees on his own well enough. Then Koyama drapes his torso over Shige’s back and that warmth returns. One arm slings around Shige’s waist while the other aims himself at Shige’s stretched opening.

“I fucking love you,” Koyama mutters into the back of Shige’s neck, followed by wet, heated kisses. “So much.”

“You too,” is all Shige can manage as Koyama pushes in.

They both groan, and Koyama rubs Shige’s thigh while he waits for Shige’s body to adjust. Shige’s grateful for the consideration since it’s been so long—and he has to dance tomorrow. Though he becomes impatient to feel movement inside him.

He doesn’t realize he’s pushing back until Koyama halts him, chuckling as he drags his lips along Shige’s shoulder. Those few extra inches of height put him at the perfect angle like this.

“Not yet,” Koyama whispers, gripping him by the hip to keep him still. “Gentle, remember?”

Shige grumbles under his breath and Koyama laughs. Koyama makes use of the wait time by running his hands all over Shige’s chest and thighs. It intensifies the pure need that surges through Shige’s veins.

He doesn’t usually care about having his nipples played with, but right now even that feels good. It helps that Koyama’s whispering filthy things, stretching up to press the words right into Shige’s ear.

“You feel so good. My precious, beautiful Shige takes me well. A little longer, and I’ll go deeper. Would you like that? I wonder if I can make you scream.”

A whimper slips from Shige’s lips and he tries to push back again, but Koyama’s still got him locked. Instead, a hand coils loosely around his cock and now he’s trying to rock forward, desperate for the touch.

“Are you close?”

“No.”

“Close _enough_?”

Shige chuckles despite himself. “I think you’re enjoying denying me more than I am.”

“So what if I am?”

Koyama punctuates his question with a single snap of his hips. Shige cries out from the sudden stimulation. At this angle, he’s grazing Shige’s prostate, which has Shige jerking even more.

“Move your hand, Keiichiro.”

“As you wish.”

He uses the super formal language like butlers do. Shige’s halfway through an eyeroll when the fingers around him squeeze and slide up and down. It’s faster than he expected and a moan forces its way out, his entire body trembling in Koyama’s hold.

“Is this what you want?”

“ _Yes_.”

“Are you getting closer?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you want to come?”

“Not yet.”

Koyama lets out this sinister chuckle that sends a sharp shiver down Shige’s spine. His arousal amplifies even more and he sputters out some semblance of encouragement. Koyama maintains the speed of his hand until Shige’s ready to claw out of his skin, then abruptly stops.

“Oh my _god_ ,” Shige whines, his body jerking in search of the friction. “Fucking fuck me already.”

“You are a demanding bottom,” Koyama teases as he returns both hands to Koyama’s hips. “I like it.”

Finally, he starts to move. Shige moans as Koyama thrusts deeply, building up a slow rhythm that won’t put too much strain on Shige’s backside. It’s the perfect amount of pressure to accompany the delicious ache in his balls. Each snap of Koyama’s hips heightens it even more.

He can barely hear Koyama over the sounds of his own noises, which get louder when Koyama’s hand returns to his cock. Something akin to a scream tears from Shige’s lungs as Koyama strokes him fast enough to make him tense up. Then he pauses to rub a thumb over the head.

“Is this good?”

“ _Fuck_ yes.”

“You’re so hot right now. I could edge you all night.”

“You can’t last all night.”

Koyama laughs. Shige’s quips don’t pack as much punch when he’s a quivering mess beneath Koyama. But even Koyama’s mockery feels good. The breath tickling the back of Shige's neck sends more signals between his legs.

“I’m nowhere close to finishing, Shige. Making you fall apart like this gives me all the stamina in the world.”

He repeats the pattern with his hand again, only this time he jerks Shige until Shige lets out a scream. A few more cycles of this and Shige can barely catch his breath, his cock twitching from every little touch. Meanwhile, Koyama keeps up the same gradual pace with his own thrusts. It pushes Shige a little too close.

“Let go of it,” he says firmly.

Instantly Koyama pulls his hand away. He wraps both arms around Shige’s shoulders instead.

“Are you at the edge now?”

“I’ve _been_ there.”

Koyama makes a low noise that Shige feels spreading throughout his limbs. His lips return to the back of Shige’s neck, right under his hairline. Shige's body trembles from head to toe as he continues that slow, torturous rhythm.

Shige can tell when Koyama’s restraint starts to break. His arms tighten and his breath quickens. Then he’s moving faster, thrusting harder and moaning louder. His unending stream of praise molds into incoherent mumbling.

“Shige...Love Shige.”

“Love you too.”

Shige brings one of his hands up to touch Koyama’s forearm, the most intimacy he can manage in this position. Koyama squeezes him tight. Then the body on top of his starts to shudder and Shige pushes back in contrast, bringing Koyama to his edge too.

“I’m close,” Koyama gasps into his ear, rushing to detach one of his arms so his fingers can return to Shige’s cock. “Wanna feel you come when I do. Is it okay to finish inside?”

Shige groans in agreement. The fire inside him roars the instant Koyama touches him again. This time, he doesn’t have to hold it back and lets it happen. He cries out a garbled version of Koyama’s given name as orgasm takes him over. It's strong and intense from being edged for so long.

Koyama’s right behind him, figuratively and literally as he thrusts a few more times, then stills. His momentum continues until they’re both spent. Then he carefully pulls out and guides Shige onto his side to stretch out.

As for Shige, he can’t even think, his mind blown to the point where all he can do is feel. The aftershocks continue to convulse his body as Koyama sidles up behind him. He embraces Shige as their heartbeats calm down.

Koyama keeps touching him. His fingers drift over his skin like he can’t refrain from making contact. It’s soothing and lures Shige even deeper into his post-orgasmic trance. All he knows is Koyama and warmth and the love they just made together.

“I’m sorry I ever doubted you,” Koyama says softly, pressing the words into Shige’s shoulder along with his kisses. “I believe now, with my whole heart, that you share my feelings.”

In that moment, the part of Shige’s brain that actually works decides to never, ever tell Koyama the truth.

* 

They finish the concerts and life goes back to normal. At least, as normal as things can get right now. Shige tries to keep up with all the reports of vaccine trials and risk assessment. But all he finds is conflicting information.

Besides, the agency has learned how much more money they can make with online ticket sales. Performing with a live audience may become a thing of the past. There has even been a rise in international sales as well.

Shige misses looking out into a sea of happy faces while he’s on stage, but he supposes it can’t be helped. He’s grateful to still be performing at all, whether due to the state of the world or the state of his group.

The one-year anniversary of NEWS becoming three members is coming up. Typically, they don’t celebrate ex-member resignation announcements. This one feels more like rewarding their own survival. They’ve made it an entire year when they weren’t sure they would get to continue as NEWS at all.

“We should have a party,” Shige says in their next meeting. “Just the three of us.”

“Three people isn’t a party,” Massu points out. “And wouldn’t it just be me coming over to your creepy house?”

“At least it’s simple! It’s not too hot yet so we’ll stay outside and I’ll barbeque. We can remember all the good times we’ve had in this dumpster fire of a past year.”

Massu huffs. “We can do that right now. Why make a big deal out of it?”

“Because it is a big deal! We’re still together! Isn’t that worth something?”

Koyama’s sigh earns the attention of the other two. They abruptly stop arguing and turn toward their uncharacteristically downhearted leader.

“What’s wrong, Koyama?” Massu asks.

“Nothing really. I just feel listless today. Sorry to interrupt your planning. I think a party sounds fun.”

Shige grins victoriously at Massu. “ _Ha_. Two to one. It’s happening.”

“ _Fine_ , but only for a couple hours in the afternoon. I have other things to do that day.”

“So do I!”

“Then why are we doing it?!”

“Because we should celebrate!”

Arguing with Massu is as frustrating as it’s always been, but in Shige’s defense, he’s a little distracted. It’s not like Koyama to be so low-tension at work. He doesn't get like this even during the natural excitement drop that usually follows a concert run. Shige’s worried, but Koyama will tell him when he’s ready.

Sure enough, there a knock on Shige’s office door later that night. The door is open, but Koyama knocks anyway in case Shige’s deep in writing mode and doesn’t see him come in. He’d scared the shit out of Shige the first time he did that.

This time, Shige’s glad to see him. He happily abandons his complicated plot point, giving his eyes a break from the wall screen. He waves Koyama in and focuses his entire attention on Koyama’s sad face.

Shige’s eyes widen when Koyama goes straight for his lap, testing the weight of the executive desk chair. Shige wraps his arms around him and holds him tight. Koyama curls up in a ball like he does when he’s sleeping and rests his head on Shige’s shoulder. Shige lifts a hand to stroke his hair.

“What’s wrong, Kei-chan?” Shige asks gently.

“Isn’t it okay to still miss him?”

A frown tugs on Shige’s lips as he knows who Koyama means right away, but at least Koyama can’t see it. “Of course it is.”

“I know I should be over it by now, and I am for the most part. But thinking about that day reminds me of all the good times we had with _him_ , and I just...I miss him, Shige. I didn’t even get to say good-bye to his face.”

“That’s not your fault—”

“I know that, and I don’t need you to rationalize what happened. I just have a hard time seeing the date on the calendar and not remembering how painful it felt. How painful it _still_ feels.”

Shige squeezes him. “We don’t have to have a party.”

“No, I want to have a party. It’ll give me good memories for the day instead of the bad ones I’ve held for the past year. I’m just going to be sad for a little while, okay? You don’t have to make me feel better. Please let me be with my feelings.”

“Of course. I love your feelings.”

“Even though you made fun of them on my birthday?”

He’s teasing, poking Shige in the belly with a chuckle.

“Not making fun. _Honoring_.”

“How about I _honor_ your gut, huh?”

“Hey...” Shige’s laugh fades to a soft moan when Koyama’s touch softens. “You can _honor_ any part of me you want.”

“Maybe later. For now, I just want to stay like this.”

Shige kisses his forehead. “Wanna watch the new Violet Evergarden movie and cry our eyes out?”

“ _Yes_.”

The wall screen flashes on and the Netflix screen loads from Shige’s mental command. He’s gotten used to navigating electronics with his thoughts. It feels weird to type or use a trackpad on his laptop anymore. Even scrolling through options on his phone seems like too much work.

“I want popcorn,” Koyama says as the beginning credits of the movie play. “Can’t Rose-san become some kind of robot that can get things for us?”

“The electronic butler upgrade is an extra charge,” Rose announces. “Shall I add it to your subscription? The hardware can be here within two business days.”

“ _No_ ,” Shige says firmly, frowning at Koyama’s pout. “We don’t need an electronic butler. We can get up and make our own popcorn.”

“I want an electronic butler,” Koyama says stubbornly. “I’ll pay for the upgrade.”

“How about you wait until the end of the month to make any expensive decisions? You impulse-buy when you’re sad.”

“Everyone does!”

“Get up. I’ll make us some popcorn.”

“If I’m getting up, I’m watching the movie in your bed.”

“We’re not eating popcorn in my bed.”

“The living room then!”

Reluctantly, they heave themselves out of Shige’s desk chair and trudge down the stairs. Koyama dives right under the kotatsu in the tatami-slash-living room. Shige digs out a package of microwave popcorn. It’s nowhere near cold enough for the kotatsu, but Rose will adjust the temperature for them.

Shige makes tea while he waits for the popcorn to pop. Then he balances everything on a tray to carry into the tatami room. Once it’s set on the kotatsu table, he snuggles up with Koyama. The movie flashes onto the wall right where they left off.

It feels good to cry, and even better to hold onto Koyama while he does it. They retreat back upstairs a few hours later, and both of them climb into Shige’s bed without any discussion. Shige wraps his arms around Koyama and doesn’t let go.

“Everything happens for a reason,” Shige speaks from his heart. Koyama’s sniffles continue. “If the world hadn’t changed, our concerts wouldn’t been postponed, and that guy wouldn’t have left when he did. All those events had to happen so that we could end up together like this.”

“I think you would have outgrown your apartment anyway,” Koyama says stubbornly. “Nothing really changed for you last year.”

“That’s not true. I was scared and lonely like everyone else. I’m still scared, but I’m not lonely anymore, because I have you now.”

Koyama takes a breath so deep that his torso rises and falls from it, then snuggles back into Shige’s embrace.

“I’m not lonely anymore either, but that doesn’t change the fact that someone who was a part of my life for so long just _left_.”

“I know.”

“I’m sorry, I’ll get over it.”

Shige squeezes him. “Take all the time you need.”

“Thank you for understanding my feelings.”

“Of course.”

Koyama falls silent then, at least with words. His shoulders shake with sobs and all Shige can do is hold him while he lets it out. Eventually, he cries himself to sleep, and Shige tries to keep his heart from breaking as he follows.

* 

It’s been so long since the three of them spent time together outside of work. Shige has to keep reminding himself that they are not working right now. They’re allowed to drink and laugh and enjoy each other’s company without that underlying nag of productivity. The kind that lingers in the back of his mind whenever they have a project.

Having a beer less than three hours after he rolled out of bed is probably contributing to his mindset too. He’s a grown adult and he can have alcohol at two in the afternoon if he wants to. Koyama and Massu are drinking too, though they’ve been awake for much longer.

“Your plants are sad,” Massu comments as he pokes the wilting leaves of Shige’s tiny garden.

“That’s an herb,” Shige points out. “It doesn’t have to be pretty.”

“Shige didn’t plant the flowers in time for them to bloom in spring,” Koyama reports. Massu looks around the front of the house at the naked greenery.

“Mums bloom in the summer,” Shige tells them. “But I didn’t plant them soon enough. Maybe they’ll come in the fall.”

Massu nods and returns to flipping the meat on the barbeque. For someone who doesn’t want to make the effort to cook for himself, he seems to enjoy grilling. He’d even brought his own sauce.

It’s almost too hot to be outside, but Shige had gotten an awning to cover the small patio area. All three of them are in shorts and T-shirts, though Koyama’s doesn’t have any sleeves. The more Shige drinks, the more distracted he becomes with Koyama’s arms.

When Massu notices Shige ogling their third member, he just shakes his head and flips the meat.

“It’s gonna be like this now, huh?”

Shige feigns innocence. “Whatever do you mean?”

Massu looks like he has a lot to say to that, but all he does is spread more sauce.

“Whatever makes you happy.”

Even after drinking a beer on an empty stomach, Shige hears his message loud and clear.

Koyama has cheered up a bit leading up to today, though he’s still lower tension than usual. At least he’s smiling, though that could be the beer. He’s happy enough to be outdoors and spend time with Massu, anyway.

Milk joins them too, curled up on the armchair for Koyama to periodically lean over and pet. Rose’s cat perimeter doesn’t work outside, but the privacy fence is enough to keep her from getting out. She doesn’t seem too keen on straying far from attention anyway.

“I don’t think you’re supposed to feed them seasoned meat,” Massu points out when Koyama slips Milk some chicken.

“She’ll be fine,” Koyama says in that cooing voice that’s reserved for Milk (and sometimes Shige). “Won’t you, baby girl?”

Massu smirks as he cuts his eyes over to Shige. “Isn’t he talking to you?”

“Shut up.”

Koyama overhears and snorts. Shige braces himself for a sudden display of affection. Sure enough, Koyama hugs him from behind and pretends to gnaw at his neck while Shige doesn’t even struggle.

“I regret everything,” Massu says flatly.

“It is far too hot for this,” Shige grumbles as he gently shrugs Koyama away. “Can’t you accost me in the air conditioning?”

“It’s not that hot,” Koyama protests. “We’re even in the shade!”

“Your body temperature runs colder than mine.”

Koyama shrugs and returns to throwing back drinks on the wicker loveseat. He’d made some lemonade to turn his beer into a shandy. Shige supposes he has to drink twice as fast to keep up with the other two.

“How’s that work with your creepy house?” Massu asks curiously. “Doesn’t it control the temperature based on _both_ of you?”

“It airs on the colder side,” Shige answers, then laughs at his unintended pun. “Whenever we’re in the same room, Koyama has to suffer.”

“Shige keeps me warm~” Koyama sing-songs, curling up with Milk who had jumped into his lap.

“You still call him Koyama,” Massu says to Shige. “You even use my given name, but not the person you’re sleeping with.”

“He uses my given name when it’s only us,” Koyama explains. “It’s affectionate to him, so he feels weird doing it in front of you.”

Shige frowns at being spoken for when he’s right there. “Meanwhile, you have no problem being affectionate in front of everybody.”

“Nope! I was taught to love openly as a child.”

“That explains so much,” Massu mutters.

“Anyway,” Shige says. “My bed actually regulates the temperature on each side, so Koyama’s side can be warmer than mine. But we both tend to overheat in bed.”

“I didn’t need all that information.”

Shige feels his cheeks heat up. “That’s not what I meant!”

Koyama cackles into Milk’s fur.

“Here.” Massu hands the tongs to Shige and folds up his apron. “I’ll be right back.”

“Go on the other side of the house so our neighbors don’t see you,” Shige says seriously.

Massu stares him down. “I would ask you to shut the system down while I go inside, but that wouldn’t fare well for you, would it?”

Shige blinks as Massu disappears, his buzz suddenly gone. His first instinct is to look at Koyama, who’s happily tipsy and too focused on his cat to pay them any attention. Thankfully.

The decision to not tell him did not go over well with Massu. But it’s Shige’s life, as Massu kept reiterating, and if Shige wants to keep living a lie, that’s his choice to make.

They agreed never to speak of it again. Apparently, that doesn’t apply to passive-aggressive digs.

It’s not a lie anyway. Even well into his second beer, Shige looks at Koyama with nothing but deep affection. He feels so strongly that he can’t stop smiling, his happiness overflowing every time he thinks about it.

Even if it may wane when he turns off the house, right now there’s no way this can’t be real.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

The grin on Koyama’s face says that he already knows the answer to that question. Shige humors him anyway. Since Massu’s not around, Shige dives onto the loveseat and hugs Koyama so hard that Milk rushes to jump to safety.

He starts off pressing loud kisses to Koyama’s face to be a brat, but then Koyama captures his lips properly. Shige loses his mind a little as the lemonade on Koyama’s tongue makes their kisses even sweeter. The summer sun pales in comparison to the heat coursing through Shige’s body.

“Honestly, you two. I will take my meat and leave.”

Koyama laughs first, effectively breaking their kiss. Shige has the decency to look sheepish as he turns around to find Massu returning to his stance at the grill. He's ignoring them both.

“You let it burn.”

“It’ll be fine.”

Massu walks over to the patio table long enough to pour himself a glass of water, which has Shige smirking.

“Dehydrated, huh?”

“I really wish your toilet wouldn’t talk to me.”

Both Koyama and Shige erupt into giggles again. Shige manages to pry himself away from Koyama like a magnet attracted to its polar opposite. Leaning over the low table, he removes the foil covering his potato salad. He’d used his dad’s recipe.

They eat in amiable silence. Upbeat music flows from the speaker Shige had installed on the outside wall. There’s a hidden cable that runs to the control panel in the genkan. While they can’t change tracks with their thoughts, it still works with the phone app.

The playlist Shige had made specifically for today shuffles to one of their new songs. Massu chews thoughtfully as he listens.

“No disrespect to the past members, but I feel like this is where we’re supposed to be.”

Shige nods. “I agree. This is our final form.”

“It better be,” Koyama mutters through his giant mouthful of chicken.

“I know we promised to stay together before, but this time let’s agree to revisit it when we’re all forty. Situations change and people do too. We can assess where we’re at in another six years and decide as a group if we want to keep going or not.”

Shige nods with Massu’s words. “I like that idea.”

“Both of you already know I’m in this for life,” Koyama says. “I honestly don’t know what else I’d do if I didn’t have NEWS.”

“Don’t look at it that way,” Massu tells him. “The reason we can’t promise forever right now is the same reason only three of us remain. I wholeheartedly believe that we were all on the same page back then. But circumstances happen beyond our control and feelings change. Who knows? In six years, you two may be married with children. It’s only natural that your priorities would change.”

Shige scoffs. “It’s a little soon to be talking about that.”

“I already know you don’t want kids anyway,” Koyama says, and Shige actually lowers his plate to his lap.

“Who said I don’t want kids? I may not want them right now, but I may in the future. Forty seems like a good age to start a family.”

Koyama stares at him like he’s never seen him before. “Are you serious?”

“It’s honestly too early in our relationship to discuss this!”

“But it’s not out of the question?”

“No, it’s not.”

Koyama grins so big that his eyes disappear. “KoyaShige babies~” he coos.

When Shige can see his eyes again, they’re shining.

“Can the house combine your DNA too?” Massu asks facetiously, interrupting their moment.

“Maybe in six years it can,” Shige shoots back. “There’s a sci-fi show where a lesbian couple had a child that was biologically both of theirs.”

Massu tilts his head in thought. “Koyama would look cute pregnant.”

“I’ll be forty-three by then!” Koyama exclaims. “Make Shige carry the baby. He’s younger. And he has more belly fat than me.”

“Hey!”

Massu laughs so hard he almost chokes on his drumstick.

Shige frowns at them both, at least until Koyama nudges him with his shoulder and gives him a cute pout.

“Maybe we’ll get a puppy in the meantime,” Shige says, and Koyama beams.

* 

The beginning of July brings the other two member birthdays and the first round of vaccines. Management insisted on halting activities until everyone had both doses, so all the talents were rushing to get theirs done as soon as possible.

“Exactly what I wanted for my birthday,” Massu says dryly when they get the memo.

“It says we should choose a time when we can rest for a few days afterward,” Koyama summarizes from his email. “I guess the side effects are bad.”

Shige frowns. “They say it’s like actually having the virus, only it lasts for up to two days and you don’t end up in the hospital. Or dead.”

“Should I go stay with my mom so she can take care of me?” Koyama asks. “Or will I be contagious?”

“Your mom should be getting it too,” Shige answers. “But you don’t have to impose on her. Let’s stagger our shots a few days apart and we can take care of each other.”

Massu turns up his nose. “Can’t you be gross by yourselves?”

“Koyama is a big baby when he’s sick,’ Shige reports. “He had the sniffles a few weeks ago and you would have thought he was dying.”

“Hey, I was worried!” Koyama says with a pout. “Corona-chan could have got me! I even quarantined from Shige until I got tested!”

“I bet that was a nice break for Shige,” Massu says seriously, and Shige laughs.

It’s not a proper meeting, just a quick video chat in response to the memo. Koyama and Shige are in the main room of their house with Massu’s face displayed on the wall screen. Koyama’s lifting weights while Shige’s attempting to declutter.

“How have we accumulated so many things in six months?” Shige wonders out loud.

“That’s all you,” Koyama calls out between reps. “I can fit everything I own in one box.”

“Including beauty products?”

Massu’s laugh echoes throughout the room. “Doesn’t the house sort things for you?”

“Even Rose gave up on this cabinet.”

At the mention of her name, Rose speaks. “Kato-san elected not to use my organization algorithms.”

Koyama snickers. “She called you out.”

“Well,” Massu says, “I’m going to get my first shot right away so I don’t feel too bad on my birthday. I’ll let you know if I die.”

“That’s not funny, Takahisa,” Koyama says in a stern tone.

“See you in the afterlife,” Massu says brightly, then the screen goes blank.

Koyama’s still frowning as he does bicep curls. “I don’t want to think about that.”

“He’s going to be _fine_ ,” Shige says from the middle of the floor. Dumping out the drawer and separating its contents into piles is the only way he’s going to make a dent in it. “ _We’re_ going to be fine. It’s just going to be uncomfortable for a few days.”

“I want to go first,” Koyama says firmly. “It will hurt me to watch you in pain either way, but I think I’ll feel better if I already know how bad it gets.”

“Works for me,” Shige agrees. “It’ll be easier for me to listen to your whining if I _don’t_ already know.”

Koyama gives him a pointed look and switches to the other arm. “If you think this is bad, wait until I get old.”

Shige rolls his eyes. “We’re only three years apart. When you get old, I’ll be old too!”

An hour later, there’s still a circle of miscellaneous items surrounding Shige on the floor. Koyama has moved on to the treadmill. He’s worked up quite a sweat and it’s very distracting.

This time Shige follows him into the shower. He makes Koyama come so hard that his knees buckle before taking him right over the edge of the tub. The upside to doing it in the bathroom is that they don’t have to move as far to clean up afterward. They can soak and snuggle as long as they want before they feel too gross to be intimate.

The next day, Massu reports a low fever and minor aches and pains within an hour after getting his shot. He also points out that he still did strength training and all his laundry. By the evening, he feels fine.

Koyama isn’t as lucky. He’s already coughing when his manager brings him home from the clinic. Shige spends the next several hours replacing cold compresses on his forehead.

“Kato-san, Koyama-san’s fever has gone up to thirty-seven point eight degrees.”

“Thank you, Rose. Isn’t there anything I can do for him?”

“He can have another dose of acetaminophen in two hours. I’ve already increased the oxygen in the room and lowered the temperature on his side of the bed. All the scholarly articles say that we just have to wait for it to pass.”

Koyama coughs with what sounds like his entire chest, then winces. “ _Ow_.”

“I know, baby,” Shige says gently. “It’ll be over soon.”

Shige barely sleeps that night. He's more worried than he thought he’d be with Koyama periodically hacking up a lung right next to him. It hurts Shige to see Koyama in so much pain. It gets to the point where Shige considers shutting Rose down to lessen the ache in his heart.

A voice appears in his head that sounds suspiciously like Massu. It tells him that without his feelings, he might get annoyed by taking care of Koyama.

So he suffers, wrapping his arms around the shivering body next to him when it starts to sweat it out. The sun is up by the time Koyama’s fever reaches a more tolerable range, still high but not as dilapidating.

Despite neither of them sleeping that well, Shige drags them both out of bed. They manage to shower and eat some semblance of a breakfast. Shige feeds Milk, empties her litter box, and washes his sheets. Koyama curls up in the sunny spot on the couch like he is a cat himself.

Having Milk purring in his lap seems to be helping. Shige leaves him be and takes a nap in Koyama’s bed instead of making the effort to put clean sheets on his own. Rose has strict instructions to wake him up if Koyama needs him.

She doesn’t though, and Shige wakes up on his own a little disoriented. It’s the middle of the day and Koyama’s room is very bright. He doesn’t have blackout curtains like Shige does, so Rose can only filter out so much light for him.

When he trudges downstairs, Koyama has relocated to the main room. A video game flashes on the wall screen.

“Feeling better?” Shige asks, leaning over the back of Koyama’s gaming chair to press his lips to Koyama’s forehead. It’s still warm, but not alarmingly so.

“Much,” Koyama replies. His voice sounds strained from coughing so much. “Thanks for taking care of me.”

“Of course. You’re going to return the favor tomorrow, right?”

“Yup! Nurse Kei-chan will report for duty.”

“That sounds a lot sexier than it will probably feel once I get the shot.”

“We'll roleplay that another time.”

Shige laughs as he settles in his own gaming chair. “Now I know you’re feeling better.”

Koyama’s chuckle sounds dirtier than usual due to the lingering congestion in his chest. “I could be on my deathbed and still have those kinds of thoughts.”

“I don’t doubt that one bit.”

They spend the evening playing video games and Koyama sleeps in his own bed. He swoons about how much it still smells like Shige. Since Shige slept most of the day, he’s up all night getting some last-minute work done on an article. He might be out of commission for a while.

It works out when he falls asleep on the way home from getting the shot. His manager and Koyama have to physically carry him into the house and up the stairs. Koyama wakes him up to give him medicine and make him bathe and eat. Other than that, he sleeps straight through the next two days. Apparently, his immune system had decided to knock him out while it worked.

“You’re boring when you’re sick,” Koyama tells him when he’s coherent enough to talk. “And I’m jealous that you hardly coughed.”

“I don’t really remember anything,” Shige says. He's still struggling to move his limbs despite being properly awake. “I feel like I got hit by a truck.”

“You kept pleading with me not to shut down the house for some reason,” Koyama tells him. Shige’s blood runs cold despite his fever. “I didn’t even say I was going to do it! I don’t think I can anyway.”

“Did I say anything else?” Shige asks, frantic.

“No? Why are you freaking out? Did something happen?”

Shige grabs Koyama by the face and forces both eyes open to stare into Koyama’s wide ones. “I love you.”

“I love you too! What’s going on? You’re scaring me!”

“Nothing, I don’t know.” Shige cringes at the strain from the sudden movement. “I may be delirious.”

Koyama calms down and wraps his arms around Shige, pulling him close. “That must be it.”

Shige snuggles in the strong embrace. He presses his face into Koyama’s collarbone to feel his heartbeat.

“Let’s take a trip,” he says suddenly, pulling back enough to speak. “As soon as we’re cleared for travel. It’ll be a late birthday gift to me.”

“A trip sounds fun,” Koyama says gently. “I’m happy wherever we can be together.”

Shige falls back asleep before he can feel too guilty.

* 

The second round of vaccinations isn’t as bad as the first. After that, it’s another two weeks before they’re cleared to leave the house. NEWS has a new single slotted for autumn, so there’s only a couple days Shige and Koyama can get away.

Since it’s still deathly hot just about everywhere, they head down to Mie to see the Ise Jingu shrine. It’s less about the scenery and more about the _change_ of scenery. As much as Shige loves staying home, he’s definitely gotten sick of seeing the same walls every day.

Even though the face masks, the fresh air is reviving. Koyama had definitely been going stir-crazy cooped up at home so much. He practically skips down the open streets. They're less crowded than they would normally be this time of the year. It’ll be a long time before everyone can get vaccinated.

They splurge for a ryokan by the ocean, the sea air so foreign that Shige sits outside on the balcony. He can’t see the sunset on this side of the country, but the sky is still pretty shades of gold and purple.

“I feel like we got married,” Koyama says as he joins Shige on the bench. He slumps onto one side to rest his head on Shige’s shoulder.

“You said that when we moved in together too.”

“Well, now this is our honeymoon.”

Shige lifts his arm to circle Koyama’s waist. The thin material of their yukatas are cool enough to embrace in the summer heat. It’s not as bad once the sun goes down, the pair of them sitting in comfortable silence while breathing deeply.

“We’re already married,” Shige replies a good minute later. It's followed by a happy sigh when Koyama snuggles closer.

“I know it’s too early to talk about that too,” Koyama says. “It’s still not legal anyway.”

“Maybe in six years it will be.”

“Are you proposing?”

“Nah. I’ll save that for a gratuitous public spectacle so you’ll cry.”

Koyama shoves him. “You have this strange fascination with my tears.”

“They’re beautiful. I feel them stronger than any words you could say to me. When you cry because you’re moved from something I did, I really feel your love.”

“That’s unexpectedly sweet.”

“I have my moments.”

They stay like that until their tea goes cold and they reluctantly return inside. The outside wall is all windows, but it’s not the same. Shige leaves the door open so they can continue to feel the ocean breeze. He’ll need to shut it before they sleep so they don’t wake up sticky and humid.

Lying on a futon is such a far cry from his smart bed that it feels rustic despite the high-end room. It’s almost too hot when Koyama sidles up next to him, but removing their yukatas helps.

Shige groans low in his throat when Koyama’s hand drifts up and down his chest. Lightly, like he’s doing it without thinking. Then he goes a little too far to the side and chuckles when Shige shivers.

“Are you trying to start something?”

“Did you bring me all the way here to _not_ have sex with me?”

Shige turns his head to find Koyama’s expression so pointed that he laughs out loud.

“We have to be quiet,” Shige tells him, keeping his voice down like someone would hear him. “We’ve been spoiled in our soundproof house.”

“I doubt there is anybody else on this floor,” Koyama says. He rolls onto his side, pressing his entire front against Shige’s side. “I’m not the loud one, anyway.”

“You want to hear me...”

Shige’s protest trails into a moan when Koyama’s lips brush his shoulder. He slowly kisses along Shige's collarbone. When he moves up to Shige’s throat, Shige leans his head back with a sharp arch. Another noise catches in his throat and he suppresses it, reaching for Koyama to pull him close.

“How do you want it?” Shige whispers into his ear.

Koyama shivers so sharply that Shige can see and feel it. “What are my options?”

“Whatever I don’t have to move too far to do.”

“Hmm...”

Koyama trails off as he continues to press kisses along Shige’s neck and throat. His faint mewls are muffled by Shige’s skin as Shige drifts a finger along his ribcage.

“There is something I have been fantasizing about lately...”

“What is it?”

“Watching you...watching me.”

Shige blinks as the implication of those few words seems to make him even hotter. “You want to jerk off together?”

Koyama scoffs and digs a finger into Shige’s side. Shige squirms and whines.

“Saying it like that makes it sound like we’re watching porn or something. I want to watch you touch yourself while I do it too.”

“I thought you wanted to have sex.”

“One does not cancel out the other,” Koyama points out. “Besides, I like touching myself like that, especially while being watched.”

Shige remembers all the video sexing behind Koyama’s closed door while he was dating Yuuko. He starts at the realization that she really had been topping him. It has him squirming in a different way now, one that’s not as bothersome.

Suddenly, Koyama’s kisses feel even better, and he chuckles when he notices.

“Do you like the idea of me fingering myself?” Koyama asks needlessly, covering Shige’s hand with his and moving it back to Shige’s own body. “I like the idea of watching you do this a lot.”

Shige’s fingers are wrapped around his hardening length without any control of his own. Though he is the one to squeeze them when his hips automatically push into the contact. He arches into his own touch, his breaths becoming heavy as he gives himself as much relief as he dares.

“What do you say, Shige? Do you think you can hold out long enough to give it to me when I’m ready?”

Shige’s already nodding before Koyama’s done asking the question. Then the body pressed against his disappears and Shige’s eyes fly open to see Koyama reaching over to his bag. When he turns back to Shige, Shige’s flooded with shame.

“It’s embarrassing to have you watch me like that,” Shige mutters.

“Yet, you’re not stopping.”

Shige glares at Koyama’s grin.

“That doesn’t have the same effect when you have your dick in your hand.”

“You put it there—”

Shige’s cut off when Koyama leans all the way back and pulls his knees to his chest, showing Shige _everything_.

“You were saying?”

Koyama gives him a dirty grin as he moves his own hand between his spread legs and drags them lazily up and down his cock.

“You are entirely too comfortable doing this.”

“You don’t like it? I can stop—”

“No, no, don’t stop.”

Shige expects Koyama to mock him some more, but all he does he stroke himself to full hardness and let out a few low moans. Up until now, Shige didn’t know how he could keep his eyes open and touch himself at the same time. It’s proving rather easy as both Koyama and his own cock demand his attention.

It’s like watching porn, only the person he’s watching knows he’s there and is doing this _for_ him. He’s being watched too, which he enjoys more than he thought he would. At least, he has to stop himself from moving a little too fast when he notices Koyama’s eyes on him.

“Fuck, okay,” Koyama says suddenly, looking like he has to pry his hand away from himself to lube up his fingers. “I usually use a toy, but I didn’t think to bring one. You’ll be in there soon enough anyway.”

A shiver shoots up the back of Shige’s neck at those words, making his own touch even more pleasurable. He supposes there is some merit in doing it himself with an audience because he can go at his own pace. He can move around in relation to his own needs, and most importantly he can slow down when it gets to be too much.

He learns all this at once when Koyama starts stretching himself. Koyama slowly pushes in one finger at a time, spreading them apart and scissoring to open himself up. It’s much different and faster than Shige usually does it. He supposes Koyama knows his own body the best and has the added benefit of actually feeling what he’s doing too.

It’s mesmerizing to watch. Shige ends up with a loose coil of his own length in favor of his full attention on Koyama. Not only between his legs, but also where his torso is trying to arch while being compacted like a pretzel. To the hooded eyes that keep trying to close as he struggles to keep looking at Shige. His entire body rocks from the force of his own actions like scripted choreography, and Shige is enchanted.

Koyama gets his third finger in while his other hand returns to his cock. He gasps as he fists himself off while penetrating himself at the same time. For as much as he does this, it doesn’t appear performative or fake. Koyama’s pleasing his own body without putting on a show.

And Shige loves it. His own body is on fire. The summer heat does nothing to keep the sweat from dripping down his back. It enhances his sensations. He finds his own struggle in holding back while Koyama pushes forward. Keeping himself on that precarious edge as Koyama races for the finish.

“Shige...” Koyama breathes, follow by a moan that would have been much louder if he didn’t rush to close his mouth. “Shige, I want you inside right after I come, okay?”

Shige rushes to agree, nodding his head for lack of ability to make words. It must be good enough, because Koyama goes back to playing himself like an instrument. He moves from side to side as well as back and forth. Shige knows what he’s seeing before his eyes will replay behind them whenever he feels this way in the future.

Koyama chokes on his warning and Shige actually has to pull away his hand to keep from giving in to his desire. As it is, he’s crawling the short distance to Koyama before Koyama’s even done coming. He tugs at Koyama’s wrist until there’s nothing in the way.

“Shige,” Koyama whispers, his voice all air. “My Shige.”

Shige’s groan comes out on his own as he covers Koyama’s body with his and guides himself inside. Both hands grip onto Koyama’s thighs while Koyama’s move to Shige’s back. He's scrambling to find purchase with all the sweat and lube.

Koyama leans back and closes his eyes now that he can. He bites his lip to keep from crying out every time Shige thrusts deep inside him. They’re slow thrusts. Not only because Koyama’s still tight, but also due to how close Shige is to the edge after touching himself. With all the teasing he gives Koyama for not lasting long, he’s not about to finish so fast.

“ _Shhh_ ,” Koyama hisses, and Shige presses his face into Koyama’s arm to muffle the noises he can’t stop. “Damn, you’re shaking.”

“I’m _close_.”

It comes out as a whine, but Shige doesn’t care. Even with as slowly as he’s moving, every squeeze of Koyama’s muscles is brutal. He can feel his entire body trembling, his breathing is staggered.

“Come, then! I don’t need you to marathon fuck me every time, you know.”

“I know, but—”

Shige stops himself to inhale, his brain clearly in need of oxygen. His exhale is all one rush, and Koyama lifts his clean hand to Shige’s face to raise his head. When Shige’s eyes focus, Koyama’s face is gentle.

“Come for me, baby.”

Shige’s head falls again as he speeds up, but Koyama just sinks his fingers into Shige’s damp hair. Rushed whispers of encouragement get him there even faster. His orgasm slams into him so hard that he would have fallen over if not for the clamp of Koyama’s legs around his waist.

“There you go,” Koyama says softly. He continues to stroke Shige’s hair as he jerks almost violently from the aftershocks. “Good boy.”

Shige laughs through his desperate gulps for air, stretching out on top of Koyama as he pulls out. “I’m not a dog.”

“Still not used to my praise yet?”

Koyama’s not at all bothered to have Shige’s entire body weight on top of him, pouring sweat even. He lowers his legs and holds Shige close. Their lips press together for the first time tonight.

“I guess not,” Shige mumbles, distracted.

Breathless and sated, they snuggle under the duvet and kiss at a much slower pace. It feels different than usual, and not only because of the sea breeze. Shige’s so happy that his heart feels like it’s going to burst out of his chest. The way Koyama clings to him shows something similar.

This is it, he realizes. This is right where he’s supposed to be in his life.

“You’re awfully clingy tonight,” Koyama teases, and Shige squeezes harder just to be a brat. “Something on your mind?”

“Just thinking about how grateful I am to be with you.”

He grins when Koyama sniffles.

“Don’t ever stop being a sap,” he adds.

“Don’t ever stop being unexpectedly romantic,” Koyama shoots back.

They hold each other tightly, Koyama just as unwilling to let go as Shige is. When Shige feels something wet drip onto his face, he lifts his head and presses his lips to the corner of Koyama’s eye. The tears taste sweet.

* 

Almost a year after Shige first decided he needed more space, he finally sets up his little art studio. The storage area off of the tatami room is just big enough for an easel and some shelves. It’s cozy, but it works for him.

He did have to have a window installed after his first attempt left him high on fumes, even with Rose’s filters. It takes a long time to get the right color by mixing paints, so he should probably be able to breathe.

It’s a completely different headspace than when he’s writing, but he likes it. He doesn’t have to think as hard to move his brush in the right direction as he does when coming up with the right words. As he does it more, it may even become mindless. In the beginning he needs to focus on unfamiliar concepts though. Like light source and negative space.

Milk isn’t prohibited from this room, but Shige doesn’t mind having her around. She stays out of the way, mostly curling around his legs while he works. It’s actually kind of grounding. She seems to have accepted the fact the he’s unable to pet her and has found other ways to give him affection.

She’s also hiding from Eri, the new addition to their family. Named after Koyama’s favorite character on Love Live!, the dachshund puppy isn't that much bigger than Milk herself. But she is a lot more rambunctious. She wants to play in different ways than Milk does, so Milk spends a lot of time in places Eri can’t go yet. So far, this is the entire upstairs and the tatami room.

Koyama’s as smitten with Eri as Shige is, despite her care being much more extensive than Milk’s. Eri has to be trained, walked, and bathed, and she won’t be able to go up the stairs even when she’s an adult. She’s also blocked from the tatami room until she stops using her nails on the floor. So, Koyama and Shige have spent a lot of time in the main room to play with her.

It kind of feels like they actually adopted a kid, particularly since they have baby gates. They also had to child-proof the whole downstairs before bringing Eri home. Once she’s house-trained, Shige plans on bringing her upstairs at night to sleep with him. For the time being, he and Koyama actually roll out the spare futon and sleep on the floor with both pets.

Shige misses his bed, but having all the loves of his life so close to him while he sleeps is almost as nice.

Painting landscapes doesn’t do much for him, but he has to start somewhere. He enjoys the repetitiveness of trees anyway, once he gets the colors right that is. The beauty of making art is that he can always go back and add things once he has the background completed. Like birds or other woodland creatures.

There’s no reason for a fluffy white-and-brown cat to be in a forest, but nobody said art had to make sense. From where she’s looped around Shige’s ankles, Milk purrs loud enough for him to feel. It’s like she knows she has inspired him.

She’s not the only one.

As the weather gets cold again, Koyama and Shige are more prone to staying home even now that they can go out again. The world still isn’t as safe as it was before last year. It may never be. But as long as they continue to wear masks and keep their distance, they’re allowed to go wherever they want.

Shige may have been a big homebody even before last year, but Koyama hasn’t gotten used to staying in so much yet. While having Shige around helps combat his loneliness, he gets bored a lot.

“I would give you one of my hobbies,” Shige had told him one day, “but you aren’t interested in any of them.”

Koyama had flopped dramatically into his gaming chair and spun around. “I feel like I have watched every anime on Netflix by now. Some of them twice!”

“Well, what do you want to do?” Shige had asked, then added as Koyama opened his mouth, “Something that doesn’t involve leaving the house.”

Koyama had clamped his mouth shut and made an adorable frustrated face.

“I could...learn to knit?”

“There you go. Make Eri-chan some sweaters to wear when it gets cold.”

Eri had barked at the mention of her name. This had both Koyama and Shige grinning like the proud dog parents they were. Milk had just looked annoyed at the loud noise that didn't come from her.

So Koyama had ordered some books and supplies, which kept him busy enough. His first attempt was more of a hat than a sweater, but Eri wore it nonetheless. Koyama’s happy to be able to create something anyway.

They’re alike that way, Shige realizes as he adds a human-sized silhouette in his forest. He’s not even trying to paint an actual person, just allude to one. Maybe two. Maybe even three.

Massu had gotten a fall drama, so they aren’t doing group work right now. From what he hears, another single is slotted for around the holidays. Shige figures that’s why he and Koyama are both so desperate to create right now. Even if it’s something that no one else will see.

Shige hopes he never stops feeling this urge.

“Kato-san, you have received an email marked ‘urgent’ from my manufacturer,” Rose reports. “Shall I read it to you?”

Shige pokes his head out the door and doesn’t see Koyama in the tatami room. The fusuma is open, though the baby gate is up so Eri can’t get in while Milk can still get out.

Taking care not to make too much noise, Shige guides Milk out of the studio and closes the door behind him. He tries not to feel too claustrophobic enclosed in such a small room. “Go ahead.”

“’Dear Kato-san, congratulations for owning your smart home for one year. We regret to inform you that there has been a recall on your software package. There is an issue with the emotion sensors that reversely affect neural connections. As a result, you may have experienced ideas or sensations that disappear when the house is offline.’"

Shige's heart leaps into his throat. He'd almost forgotten.

“'To correct this issue, we will need to reset your system and install different software. Unfortunately, this means your house will have to be reprogrammed from the beginning. For your inconvenience, please enjoy the smart upgrade of your choice free for one year.'"

"Inconvenience, right," Shige mutters.

"'Please sign and return the attached consent forms. This gives us permission to access your system. If we do not receive the forms, we will be unable to reset your system. In that instance, we forego all liability in the event this issue causes you any problems. Should you choose to reset at a later date, please contact us. Either way, the free upgrade is already applied to your account. Again, our deepest apologies for the inconvenience.’"

Rose starts to read the signature and Shige cuts her off. "Delete it."

"Are you sure?" Rose asks. "There are attachments. I can read them to you—"

“That won’t be necessary,” Shige says. “Delete the email and leave no trace of it in my account."

“Certainly, Kato-san.”

Shige returns to his painting and smiles. Looks like they’re getting an electronic butler.

**Author's Note:**

> the avid sims player i am, i recreated koyashige's house in ts4! you should be able to click [here](https://www.evernote.com/shard/s741/sh/7bc715e8-202b-df25-45e2-ef951df81ffc/9097405eb925bc2ef2c387298ba4a430) to look at screenshots. lucky for me, the japanese-inspired expansion pack came out on nov 13.


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